Eternally Bound
by Ibaraz
Summary: Arwen joins the Fellowship of the Ring, against her father and Aragorn's wishes. Her actions alters the course for the fellowship and could reverse all that was foretold of the destruction of the One Ring. As the fellowship moves towards Mordor, danger arises for everyone and Arwen and Aragorn's love is tried like never before.
1. Arrival in Imladris

_A/N: This story mostly focuses on the Fellowship's quest, Arwen and Aragorn's__ relationship and Aragorn's long and winding road to the throne of Gondor. It follows the Extended Versions of the movies but some details from the book might be found in future chapters. _

_Disclaimer; I obviously do not own any of the characters or the marvelous world created b Tolkien. I wish I possessed his grandness. Nor do I own the movies directed by Peter Jackson who is a visual master in his own right. Both Tolkien and Jackson have instead helped me find inspiration and a story from which I could create my own story and create a fun, but possibly not authentic, AU. So thank you, Tolkien and Jackson, for immortalizing LOTR for a world of fans._

_A/N 2013; I'll be editing further this month to try and remove smaller errors, change scenes that might never have worked and hopefully help improve this story._

* * *

**1. Arrival in Imladris**

Arwen's feet moved swift and silent as she headed down the white pathway of the arcade in the direction of the healing house. Her mind was clouded with a heavy concern she could not shake. A concern for the young hobbit within the healing house and a concern for her beloved who remained out in the wild with the other hobbits.

Frodo, the hobbit within the sick room, had during the night been wounded by a dagger wielded by a Ring wraith. The Nine had been in hot pursuit of Arwen as she rode with the hobbit towards help and safety. The dark riders had caught up with her as she reached the river and had it not been for the powers of the elves, Arwen and Frodo might never have escaped. As it was, the Nine had been swept away with a deadly wave, called upon by the elf maiden, but it was not a definite strike. The wraiths would return once more.

Arwen simply hoped the Nine would not regain their strengths again until Aragorn and the hobbits, too, were safe in Imladris, where the powers of the elves could watch over them.

For all she knew and feared, however, Aragorn and his small group could already have been overtaken by the darkest shadows. Arwen had long been accustomed to woe and worry whenever the ranger set out from Rivendell, for the world had slowly turned a more unsafe place, but this time it was different. Though Aragorn was skilled with a blade, indeed counted amongst the greatest of warriors, there were some dark forces even he was best to avoid.

Arwen stopped her pace and released a heavy breath that had long ached within her chest. She turned to gaze out over the balustrade and noticed how the sun swept through the decorated columns as if reaching out for the beautiful, wild heather which grew up the side of the building. It seemed even the rays of the sun enjoyed the peace of the gardens below. Arwen knew the Elven kingdom and her most beloved home had always been a safe haven for her own kind and those in need. Even in her worry, the serene spirit of Rivendell managed to touch her heart and give her a small measure of peace.

Her head turned to gaze at the door not far from her current position. Behind the grand, decorated door rested the young hobbit who'd received the treacherous wound. When Arwen and Frodo had first arrived, her father had already been awaiting them. Lord Elrond had wasted no time as he had brought the hobbit to his healing room, from which Arwen in her long years had seen few men exit still wounded. Elrond had quickly dismissed his daughter with an honest promise that all would be well.

Though Arwen trusted her father blindly, his words had not calmed her for long when she had been left alone to wait out the storm. Her faith was swiftly dwindling and she knew the only thing that would sooth her mind was Aragorn's return.

Though Elrond had insisted she change clothes and relax, Arwen had yet to change out of her travel outfit. Upon being dismissed by her father, she had instead hurried to send out horses for the others still in the wilderness, but the day was turning dark and no news had reached Rivendell. There was nothing for Arwen now but to wait and keep her faith.

As she leaned against the balustrade, she raised a slender hand to her cheek and traced the small cut on her cheek. She had told her father he could deal with it after he had helped the hobbit. For now, it only served as a cold reminder of the horrors that lay behind her.

Suddenly, a second pair of steps echoed in the arcade and Arwen turned at the sound, only to see the tall wizard, Gandalf the Grey, walking towards her. His ragged clothes were ripped and singed at the edges, and his blue hat seemed unusually shaggy as well. His walking staff clicked against the floor in time with his steps as he moved closer. The wizard was obviously unharmed, but seemed to have been been through a great ordeal of sorts.

As the bearded man came closer, Arwen took in more of his appearance. For the first time in their acquaintance, Gandalf seemed like a tired, old man. There was something broken and shattered in his pale eyes, as if something dark was weighing him down. Still, the wizard offered her a faint smile even though it scarcely reached his eyes.

"Gandalf," Arwen bowed her head and rushed to reassure the elder man, "The hobbit is safe. Father hopes he has healed the worst."

Relief washed over the wizard's face as he stopped beside her. He smiled a bit wider then and this time it did reach his eyes.

"Lord Elrond is of course one of the best healers in Middle Earth; I would not have expected anything less. After many years of friendship, I have known no time when he has failed to heal a patient. Well…" Gandalf broke off as Arwen turned her gaze away. "Except your mother."

"You speak the truth, Mithrandir," Arwen nodded and brushed a lock of her long, dark hair behind her shoulder. To talk of her mother still brought her much anguish, even after so many years since Celebrian's journey over the seas. "My father is truly the best in his field."

Gandalf removed his hat from atop his head and brushed some dust off of it, even as he changed the subject, "I must admit, though... I was surprised not with your father, Undómiel, but with _you_, maiden fair. I was not prepared for the news that _you_ had saved the young hobbit."

The elf maiden smiled tenderly. Declining her head, she said, "I have not saved anyone yet. Frodo's fate has yet to be determined."

"We shall soon get a definitive answer for Frodo. But irregardless of what happens from this moment on, you gave him a chance at life," Gandalf pointed out and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. "I know you are worried for him."

Arwen looked up into the wizard's eyes; she knew he was not talking about the hobbit any longer. Her mind's eye once more reached out to the ranger still in the wild. With a sad smile, Arwen gazed out over the balustrade to look at the last rays of the setting sun. "There are still no news of them. What if something has happened?"

The wizard seemed to consider this, before responding, with a hint of humor in his dark voice, "Things happen every day."

The elf sighed as she lifted a curved eyebrow at Gandalf's words, the wizard merely chuckled in reply.

"You know as well as I do, milady, that if anyone can take care of the hobbits and himself - it is Aragorn," Gandalf clarified wisely.

Arwen nodded. The wizard moved over to the wall and heavily sat down on the bench beside it. He stole a quick glance at the door by his side and as he did, a shadow flickered across Gandalf's face. Once more, the weary grew on his worn features. The fear which had slowly built up within Arwen, recognized the look on his face. There was more to this darkness than what had happened today, and there was surely more still that lay ahead.

"How are you, old friend? Tell me more of you," she asked at length. "When did you arrive in Imladris?"

"I arrived here not four days ago, a short while after you left, I am told. Your father has kindly filled me in on everything in your absence. The hobbits' danger I was already made aware of."

"Yes, but _how are you_?" Arwen persisted. "You carry yourself as if you have recently been trialed... and though you have not failed, I see no signs of having succeeded either."

"There is little that passes you by," Gandalf remarked shortly and she saw how his face darkened by his own thoughts. "Your guess is true. I went to seek the council of Saruman, my mentor and friend. I had not foreseen what happened when I did…"

Arwen's silvery eyes widened in shock by the words that remained unsaid in the air between them. _Saruman is no longer a trusted ally_.

"This is my fault," Gandalf confessed with a deep sigh. "I shouldn't have gone; I should have ridden to meet the hobbits when I was supposed to. Then none of this would have happened."

"It is most fortunate they had Aragorn," Arwen assured with a smile.

"And _you_, my lady. Without the two of you, I do not know what would have become of our dear hobbits. But tell me, how are _you, elleth?"_

"Me?" Arwen asked and turned to the man in confusion. "I am in good health certainly. Why do you wonder, Gandalf?"

"Can't an old wizard be curious about his friend's well-being?" the wizard shrugged and Arwen smiled. As he continued, curiosity echoed in his raspy voice, "You faced all nine Ring wraiths on your own. There are indeed few alive who can attest to such a feat. I think I'm entitled to be a bit worried about my friend after such an escapade and adventure."

"I am unharmed and well, I promise."

Gandalf nodded distractedly and moved to join her by the balustrade once more. He raised an old, calloused hand and gently touched the cut on her cheek. As he moved his hand away, Arwen knew he had healed the small wound. "Would you care to enlighten me how you managed to escape the Nazguls?"

"What is there to tell? I crossed the river on Asfaloth and the Nine dared not follow me across. When they attempted, I called upon the river's power to help me defeat my foes. The Nine were washed away by a mighty flood, shortly before Frodo's condition worsened."

"What happened?"

"He had received a poisonous wound, as you know already," Arwen said and continued, "but by the Ford he was so greatly weakened that he lost consciousness. We were losing him. There was only one thing I could do to help. I asked the Valar that the grace which had been given me, be passed to Frodo."

Gandalf turned away from her and gazed out at the scenery in silence for a few seconds. As he pursed his lips, Arwen knew there were things going on within his mind she did not fully understand. At length, the wizard glanced back at the woman and said, "It was a kind gesture, milady. You did more than you had to for Frodo, but nothing in vain. Still, your father would have helped him, you did not have to ask the Valar anything."

"I did what I could," Arwen insisted with a gentle smile and too turned her eyes out at the landscape once more. In a sad, low voice, she breathed, "Let us hope it will be enough."

* * *

On the second day of Arwen's return, as the sun passed high in the sky, a few riders reached the gates of the city of Imladris.

Among the Elven riders were also Aragorn, Sam, Merry and Pippin. As Aragorn jumped from his horse in one fluid motion, the three hobbits, who had all ridden with an elf, were helped down onto the ground.

The three of them huddled close together as they gazed about them in awe and admiration. None of the hobbits had ever before seen such grandness and beauty all in one place. Silently, they looked up at the kind elves who had found them in the wilderness. The elves, led by one called Glorfindel, nodded down to them before walking off, the horses followed obediently behind them though not a word was spoken aloud between elf and animal.

"Where's mister Frodo?" asked Sam boldly and took a step forward in this foreign environment. Sam's eyes gazed after the disappearing elves but then turned to Strider still by his side. It seemed the ragged man had not heard the question at all.

In truth, Aragorn held the same concern as Sam, with the added concern of his elven maiden. His eyes searched the gardens around him for anyone with answers, but there was no one to be found. Besides, Glorfindel had already informed him that both Frodo and Arwen were still alive, but that was all. He needed to see them both with his own two eyes to confirm it.

"Follow me," Aragorn said in a gentle voice and stepped with his large stride further into the city of the elves. The hobbits all scrambled to keep up with him. He heard their awed gasps at the beautiful gardens and architecture but he paid them little notice as he led them further into the vast city of the valley.

"Where are you taking us, Strider?" asked Merry and Aragorn glanced in his direction.

"To the healers house. Where we shall surely find your friend."

The hobbits said nothing further as they followed him up steps and through gardens. Sam, Merry and Pippin all noted that every elf they met on the way bowed their heads in respect at Strider. The ranger greeted the elves in a similar manner, though somewhat more rigidly. The hobbits exchanged confused glances at this strange behavior of their new-found friend.

As they reached another long, pale staircase, Aragorn ascended it in a few, wide strides. The sun warmed his skin from above and the scent of heathers finally reached his keen nose. He felt his feet pick up pace once more. They were not far from their goal now. Behind him, the hobbits huffed as they tried to keep up and as the ranger noticed, he patiently slowed his steps to accommodate for their short stature.

As they reached a corner in the arcade, Aragorn's ears picked up the sound of two voices; a man and a woman. Both voices were familiar. He rounded the corner and several feet down the pathway, his eyes found a sight that raised his heart to joyous heights. Upon a simple bench, outside the main healer's room, sat Gandalf and Arwen, deep in discussion.

Aragorn felt his heart hammer away in his chest upon seeing the elf maiden and his eyes quickly assessed her health. She was clearly unharmed and in good spirits, in other words she was perfectly safe. This came as a greater relief to Aragorn than he had expected. He had not fully realized the extent of his worry for her when he had last seen her ride off into the lion's den.

When the first wave of relief settled, Aragorn couldn't keep his gaze off of her. Arwen was dressed in a red, billowing dress with her dark hair loose around her fine shoulders. She looked as beautiful as the first day he had seen her, and once more Aragorn found he seemed to have misplaced his breath.

As if feeling his stare, her silvery eyes turned from the wizard and locked with Aragorn's instead. Under the warming sun, her eyes sparkled like stars and a smile suddenly spread on her full lips. She quickly rose from the bench a second before the wizard by her side noticed their new company.

"_Gandalf_!" Sam exclaimed in gentle relief as he recognized the seated wizard. Sam hadn't expected he would ever see the Grey wizard, especially after he had failed to meet the hobbits at Bree. Sam and the hobbits had assumed the worse and to now be reunited lifted his spirit high.

"Hello, Samwise," Gandalf smiled and looked at them all. "Meriadoc and Peregrin too, I see."

"My lady," Aragorn bowed his head at Arwen; who simply smiled and curtsied.

"It's her," whispered Merry to Pippin, where they stood on Sam's right. "The she-elf who took Frodo with her."

"Your friend - Mr Baggins - is being treated for his injuries as we speak," the elven maiden spoke with her soft, flowing voice that seemed to mesmerize the hobbits.

"May we see him, milady?" Sam asked worriedly, looking up at her with his wide, blue eyes. Still worried about his close friend, he knew he would not be calmed until he saw Frodo alive and well.

"Let them restore his health first, Sam," Aragorn said and leaned against the balustrade, not taking his eyes off Arwen. He wanted to talk to her in private, to tell her how worried he had been and how happy he was that she was safe. She locked gazes with him and he settled for a simple, reassuring nod. For now they both knew any private talks had to wait.

At that moment, the door to the healers' room opened and the elf lord Elrond stepped outside. His long, dark hair fell elegantly over his broad shoulders and his face seemed touched by many, long years of wisdom, grace and pride. Aragorn bowed and the hobbits were lost what to do. Hurriedly they, too, bowed their heads at Elrond.

The elf lord closed the door behind him and then turned to face the ranger by his side. With a kind, gentle smile, Elrond placed a hand on the ranger's shoulder.

"I am most pleased to see you have returned in good health, Estel. However, there will be no need for that, as you are well aware. Not from any of you," said Elrond as Aragorn stretched tall and smiled up at the other man. The hobbits followed Aragorn's lead and stood tall as well (or as tall as possible when one is a hobbit. Which is not very tall.)

"How is he?" Sam asked and then, just to be safe, added, "… master elf."

"My name is Lord Elrond, Samwise Gamgee. You need not call me by any other title," said Elrond. "Your friend is well and should soon be restored to good health. But I will not lie, the wound has weakened him greatly. There was a time I was unsure even my healing powers could restore him. Time alone can now answer for the hobbit's health."

The elf lord glanced over at his daughter and fatherly pride shone in his dark eyes. "It is a very good thing, indeed, that the young Mr Baggins arrived here so swiftly. If he had arrived only a few hours later, I might not have been able to do anything for our young friend."

The arcade fell silent as everyone took in the elf lord's words.

"So he's safe?" asked Pippin at length and conspicuously glanced at Sam and Merry. "He will make it?"

"Yes," Elrond answered with a slow nod.

"Good," Pippin nodded. "I have another question…"

"Go ahead and ask it, my young hobbit," Elrond assured the small hobbit.

"Well, I was just wondering," Pippin began, "...if we could bother you for some food?"

Sam groaned in irritation as Merry slapped the back of Pippin's head.

"What? _I'm hungry!_" Pippin defended himself against Merry's pointed look. "I haven't eaten since yesterday. And you heard him, Frodo _will_ be all right, we don't need to worry about him now. He's isn't going to die."

The young hobbit's uplifting attitude brightened Arwen's mood. She laughed merrily and stepped over to the three hobbits. She smiled warmly down at them, a smile they happily returned.

"You speak wisely, master Peregrin. Your friend is safe and the rest of you are allowed to unwind after a long and tiresome journey. Come, I will find you some food, and then take you to your chambers."

With those words, Arwen held out her hand for the hobbits to follow her. They exchanged small smiles of relief at the sound of both food and comfortable beds and thanked her greatly. The four of them soon walked off the way they had come, now with more merriment in their steps. Arwen looked back as she rounded the corner and caught Aragorn's eyes. He bowed his head slightly a final time and her grin widened.

Gandalf rose from the bench as he, Elrond and Aragorn were left alone in the stone arcade. The wizard chuckled when he heard the echo of Sam's timid suggestion that he'd prefer to stay in a room closer to Frodo.

"Mithrandir..." The elf lord spoke.

The wizard turned hurriedly to face his old friend and saw the grim expression upon his face. With a tilt of his head, Gandalf asked, "Can _I _see him?"

Elrond shook his head and sighed. "The hobbit does need his rest and I am unsure when he will regain consciousness entirely. Mr Baggins is greatly weakened, indeed. I did not admit the full extent of it before my daughter and Mr Baggins' friends."

"How bad is his injury?" Aragorn asked as he stepped closer.

"Mr Baggins will survive. But his injury will haunt him for the rest of his days on this earth. I could not heal the wound of the Morgul blade completely. I do not, however, believe it will be the death of him."

Aragorn nodded solemnly at this admission while the wizard hid his thoughts between an impassive wall. Silence hung over the small group for a few seconds, before the ranger broke the stiff silence. "What happens now?"

"We must hold a council to decide what to become of the Ring that is now within these lands, we shall send for our neighbors and leaders among the races. Together we shall decide what to do," Elrond said and his voice darkened into a far more serious tone. Something told Aragorn it was not the last time he'd heard that grave tone. "But let's talk more of this later, Estel. Let us not concern ourselves with those troubles now. It can wait until the break of another day. _Today_ you need rest just as the hobbits do."

Aragorn bowed his head as Elrond exchanged a brief glance with Gandalf, the two of them had much to discuss later. But for now all three men agreed to let the topic rest.

"Let us join our friends in their search for food, then," suggested Gandalf.

It was not an invitation to eat, as his words suggested, but merely a means to get their minds of the dangers looming ever closer on the horizon. They all were aware of the darkness coming and knew that they would have to face this problem sooner or later.

For today, if only for the few remaining hours left of daylight, everything could wait.

Today the world was silent, waiting for the future that was sure to change it all.

* * *

_Please review, if the spirit moves you!_


	2. The Feast

**2. The Feast**

About a week after being brought into the safe city of the elves, Frodo awoke.

When he first opened his eyes, he had felt weary in a way he had not known possible. Drained, as if having exerted himself physically, despite having been confined to bed for so many days. It had taken him several more hours, and the helpful hand of Lord Elrond, before Frodo had regained his strength enough to walk outside and see the wonders of the elvish architecture he'd thus far only heard of. The entire time, Sam had remained by his side.

Frodo had never been more thankful than now that it was Sam and no other hobbit that had spied beneath his window back in the Shire. Frodo was sure that if Gandalf had made anyone else accompany him, they would never have been such an honest, true friend as Sam had proven to be. Indeed, the gardener's unwavering belief in Frodo's full recovery even affected the mind of Frodo. With Sam by his side, it did not take many hours before Frodo found himself smiling again.

Despite it all, however, something was different. Frodo had been blessed with life once more, but things were not the same. Something, or possibly everything, had changed now. He didn't know what it was nor would he have known how to describe it, he merely knew that he was no longer the same hobbit that had left Bag-End not long ago. And he could never go back to being that hobbit.

When he had accepted the task of transporting the Ring to Imladris, Frodo had done the opposite of what most hobbits strove for in their life time. Most desired nothing more than a comfortable, safe life and some nice tobacco. In the last few days, Frodo had seen more of the world than ever before in his life and almost been killed several times.

He had to live with his choices. And, for some reason, Frodo had a feeling it couldn't just end here. From this point, he could only move forward, despite how desperately he might want to just go back. He had to accept that his life would never be the same he once had lived.

Frodo, however, didn't quite know where to go from here.

For one thing, he was still in possession of the One Ring. It still lay tucked safely at the bottom of his vest pocket, where it had been ever since he left home. He'd asked Gandalf if it was not time to give it to the elves, but the wizard had asked him to keep it. For just a little while longer.

There had been something more to Gandalf's request, Frodo was sure of it. But whatever it was, it wasn't something the wizard was ready to share yet.

* * *

Frodo and Sam decided to take a slow stroll through one of the gardens while the sun was still out so that Frodo could see more of the city.

Imladris was located in a fertile valley, with the massive mountains around it which offered great protection for the city's inhabitants. As Sam gushed about the wonders of the elves, Frodo had to admit he rather liked it, too.

He had never before seen such variations of colours dance in the tree crowns above or in the flowers below. They all ranged from deepest forest green to the softest of lavender and in some cases as dark as the bare earth.

Sam had once pointed out a reddish, handsome flower and had, in a somewhat distant voice, said that it reminded him of Rosie Cotton's hair when she danced in the light of a fire. Frodo had seen his friend's cheeks burn warm with a blush, but had kindly not commented upon it. He had, however, been unable to hide his warm smile at his friend's obvious affection for the hobbit lady.

If time would be on their side, maybe Sam would be home within a week, dancing by her side. If ever he could work up the courage for it!

The hobbits had been given free passage through the city to go wherever they pleased and it still marveled Sam any time they saw one of the tall people. Frodo had to agree that most of the fair people were a sight for sore eyes. Slender they were, yet not thin beyond what could be counted as normal. Gracious and proud, always with their heads held high and a posture which seemed could never slouch.

Merry and Pippin, Frodo had learned, had found a great interest in elvish cuisine and had already made several acquaintances and regaled the elves of a plentiful number of stories from home. Frodo had told Sam that he was free to roam around as he wished also, but the blond hobbit had looked at him funnily, as if wondering whether Frodo wished to be rid of him or not, and announced that he would rather discover the lands with his friend.

Touched by this, Frodo had not the heart to tell Sam the truth. That he desired peace, to walk in solitude with his own thoughts. To get away from the rest of the world and find a corner of his own in one of the vast gardens.

"Mister Frodo," Sam spoke suddenly, abruptly pulling Frodo from his private thoughts.

He turned towards his gardener and friend and noticed how Sam's pale eyes were looking into a more secluded part of the garden. Frodo followed his gaze and felt his heart elate at the sight. Reclining on a carved, marble bench was none other than his old uncle. Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo's appearance, which had always been youthful all the way to his 111th birthday earlier the same year, had suddenly changed. It was as if the cold northern wind had blown past him, stripping him bare of his youthful features and seemingly wrinkle-less face. This man before Frodo _was_ worn and wrinkled. With hair paled as frost in the winter and wearing elven clothing, Frodo was not sure he would have recognized his uncle had not Sam pointed him out.

As his heart pumped more joyfully than it had in a long time, Frodo felt his feet make their way towards Bilbo. As he drew nearer, he could hear the old man humming a familiar Shire tune, elating Frodo's mood further.

"Uncle!" he exclaimed when he was a few mere feet from the elder hobbit. Bilbo's head snapped up in his direction, his grey face startled for a second, before recognition registered in his pale eyes.

"Frodo?" he croaked, his voice reminiscent of an old wooden door. "Oh, _my boy_!"

Frodo hurried the last steps and Sam remained behind, keeping his distance and allowing the two relatives a moment of their own.

Throwing his arms around Bilbo, Frodo breathed in his scent. It was still familiar to his nose, smelling just as it had all those months ago. He smelled of tobacco in the summer and of dried ink.

"Wonderful to see you, boy," Bilbo assured and patted Frodo's back affectionately. Frodo leaned back and once more recognized the change in the elder man's voice. Bilbo did not seem to notice Frodo's curious gaze, as he hastily continued, "Oh, lad, I have been here a long time now… Though, I am not sure how long. My head is growing weary with age; the days seem to blend together into a most comfortable mist. I am afraid I do not any longer know how long I have been here."

"But you _are_ here, just as you said," Frodo assured.

"_That_, I am," Bilbo nodded in agreement. "And I _do_ like it here, so peaceful. _So calm_. You know, it feels as if I have been here forever at times, and at others as if I have only just arrived. Speaking of which… when did _you_ arrive, my boy?"

Frodo declined his head, pondering the best way to respond to his uncle's inquiry. "I have not been here long, Bilbo. I have only walked these gardens since this morning."

"Then you have yet to experience the peace of the elves fully. There is such calmness here, especially in the evenings when the stars shine bright above our heads. Yet, though calm it is, Rivendell is never dull. There is always something new to catch my interest, new people to converse with. And I have all the time in the world to finish my book, though I still have a long way to go there. Tell me, did you ever explain why you came, Frodo? I cannot remember if you have."

Frodo opened his mouth to speak of the Ring, when he heard footsteps coming their way. Two pairs, one rustling the leaves, the other barely caressing it.

Both hobbits on the bench looked up as an elven maid and a man came round a corner, stepping out onto the path further ahead. Frodo hardly recognized Aragorn at first sight, dressed in finest elven clothing as he was, and looking naught like the ranger he had come to know as Strider. The fair lady by his side, he did distinguish easily, though. The tall, gracious figure was unmistakable, as was her dark, long hair. Her face was beautiful beyond description and seemed eternally young, yet not so. The woman's grey, sparkling eyes locked with Frodo's as she and Aragorn moved towards them.

When he had seen this woman last, she had saved him from certain death. He did not remember much after being stabbed, but he did remember her face and soft voice pleading with him to remain in the realms of the living.

Distantly, he recollected her name and as the two came to a halt before them, Frodo carefully asked, "Lady Arwen?"

She rewarded him with a small smile that did wonders to his insides. "Yes, Frodo. I was unsure if you would remember, but now I see you do."

As Aragorn bowed his head towards Bilbo, who had begun humming again, Frodo frowned.

"So it did happen?" the hobbit asked. "It was not merely a dream I had, you _did _truly help me?"

The elven lady opened her mouth to respond, but Aragorn was faster. "It is true, Frodo. She came to our aid when we needed it, you most of all."

Arwen glanced at the ranger from the corner of her eyes, but kept silent. From his other side, Frodo heard Sam moving through the leaves to accompany them, apparently having found the moment safe to interrupt now that more had joined the conversation.

The blond hobbit smiled warmly up at the man and woman and Frodo figured Sam must have gotten to know both the lady and Strider better while he himself was out cold.

With a last smile in Frodo and Sam's direction, Arwen crouched before Bilbo. The elder hobbit looked up as she placed a feather light hand on his shoulder, and his eyes lit up with a rekindled flame.

"_Undómiel_!" Bilbo proclaimed and glanced behind her. "And Strider, too!"

Despite having already bowed for the elder hobbit, Aragorn repeated the gesture. "Bilbo. Might a mere ranger inquire how your book is coming along? Is there any chance of ever getting to read these memoirs I have heard so much about?"

"All in good time, friend. Once it is finished, of course. _But first_!" Bilbo said and swiftly turned in his nephew's direction. The speed of his movement stood in contrast to his old, harried appearance. "First I wish for _you_ to read it, my boy."

Frodo could not contain his joy at this news and smiled widely at his uncle, who patted his hand in return.

"I have been asked by my father, Lord Elrond, to seek you out," the lady began softly, and Frodo turned his gaze up at Arwen once more. She smiled and continued, "I know he has already asked you, Frodo, to join the council, but he wishes for all four of you to know you are welcome in our realm for as long as you may wish."

Frodo glanced back at Sam, who seemed dumbfounded and at a complete loss of words. Frodo understood that this must be a small dream come true for the gardener, and it did make him glad as well. This way, he'd have more days to spend with Bilbo also, and catch up with the elder hobbit. Perhaps he could also talk more with Gandalf about the whole ordeal, if he could only find a time when the wizard was not otherwise occupied with Lord Elrond or other matters more important at hand.

The shine in Sam's eyes faded quickly, having been chased away by a pale shadow. He fidgeted on the spot and when he spoke, he could not meet anyone's eyes.

"Are we truly wanted here?" he asked shyly. If there was one thing Sam did not wish for, it was to be in the way of anyone. He had come this far to take care of Frodo, he had been blessed to survive those horrid riders and to see the city of the elves had been a blessing afterwards. But maybe now that was it, maybe it was here it was all supposed to end. Understanding that his words might be construed erroneously, Sam quickly cut in before Aragorn, who had opened his mouth to respond, could say anything.

"It is not that I do not wish to stay, _I do_. It is merely… Well, we have done our part in this, haven't we?"

Aragorn and Arwen shared a glance and were both silent for a second. Frodo caught the slight shift in tension that arose in that moment, but was not surprised at this. He had felt the atmosphere change several times before, both upon seeing Gandalf for the first time and when talking to Lord Elrond. There had been something in their eyes that told Frodo that this was not the end. No, this was barely even the beginning of something he couldn't even imagine.

Laughter coming from somewhere in the background pulled Frodo from his thoughts deep in shadow. As if resurfacing the water of a deep lake, Frodo came aware of the voices of his friends. He turned as Pippin, cackling with laughter, replied to whatever Merry had said. The two hobbits came walking briskly in their direction and waved before reaching them.

"Hello," Pippin greeted merely, the short word flowing from his tongue with a smile. Despite all the worries born at the back of Frodo's mind about the future, Pippin seemed as carefree as ever, having not picked up on the same tension as Frodo. At least in that matter, some things never changed.

Stretching tall and graceful, Arwen said, "This evening we shall have the honor of the arrival of several of our guests for the council. In their honor, and yours also, we are holding a small celebration. Can we expect you all to remain here for this night at least?"

The four hobbits exchanged glances. Pippin replied for them all, "Will there be any food?"

* * *

Having left the five hobbits behind after saying their farewell, Aragorn and Arwen wandered alone in the gardens once more. They walked in silence side by side, enjoying both the quiet of the day and each other's company. Their hands brushed on occasion as they walked, and Aragorn glanced at his lady more than once.

"My father wishes to see me," Arwen spoke suddenly. "He is in his study."

"Then we'd better go to him, _Arwenamin_," Aragorn smiled and gently, barely even as soft as a caress, placed a hand at her lower back to guide her. That was, at least, the excuse he made for touching her, something he did not wish to ever stop doing.

Passing a group of recently arrived people, three men of tall stature, they bowed briefly. Aragorn remained one step behind Arwen, hoping not to be recognized and have his true heritage revealed. If he could, he would go to great lengths to keep it all hidden. He would even return to the solitude of a wanderer, even though it meant being parted for Arwen for another time.

The three men, however, did not seem to take any notice of him at all, as their gazes were fixed on the stunning elf maiden. Aragorn could hardly blame them.

The couple continued up a small staircase adorned with wild heather on either side, bathing in the golden light of the sun up ahead. Aragorn would never stop being amazed at the serenity of the elves. He had come to realize long ago that they could face much hardship, and still seem content and calm by the situation. They were rarely fazed by anything. Or rather, as he knew was more accurate, they rarely showed their true disturbance, if they could prevent it.

But some among the fairest people to walk Middle Earth were not as calm as the rest. Though Arwen was counted among the most composed, as he had been told often by those who did not know her, she was more than making up for it between private eyes. He had never met another elf who could surrender herself to the moment so entirely.

He saw her finger the Evenstar pendant around her neck, as he sneaked a glance at her from the corner of his eyes. "Might I inquire as to what is on the lady's mind?"

"You may," Arwen smiled and Aragorn's eyes were momentarily distracted by the sight of her full lips. "But my answer will have to wait. Listen."

Aragorn did as told. Further away in the building he heard the echoes of two men's voices. Lord Elrond was not alone in his study; Gandalf was in there with him. Aragorn felt his steps falter as he realized the topic of their discussion; The Ring of Power.

By his side, Arwen repressed a small shiver. It was beyond her to understand how such a small thing could affect so many. She did not feel the need to explore this question either, as it was not her place to do so. Despite it all, Arwen felt both curiosity and fear about this ring, a fascinated fear, about what it could and possibly would do for Middle Earth.

As they stepped closer, Arwen and Aragorn caught the end of Elrond and Gandalf's conversation.

With a mighty tone of voice, Gandalf proclaimed, "There is one who could unite the world of Men… One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor."

By her side, Aragorn froze and became as stiff as granite. The silence after the wizard's claim seemed to echo in the hallway, making the implication all the more deafening.

After a short pause, Elrond's impassive tone replied, "He turned from that path a long time ago. He has chosen exile."

Arwen inhaled and tried to grasp Aragorn's hand in her own, but it slipped from her fingers. She could see it in his eyes already and knew better than to attempt any such thing again; he needed solitude right now. It was something he often did when faced with the implications of his supposed responsibilities; he pulled away from the world, from her.

She was powerless to stop him most times, despite being the closest individual to him. The throne was more than just a nuisance to Aragorn and he would need to work through his problems eventually, with or without anyone else's aiding and guiding hands. For now, however, he slowly slipped away from her and into the shadows. Arwen watched him turn his back on her and walk off with his shoulders stiff and head downcast.

"Undómiel."

Arwen let out a short breath before turning around. In the open doorway ahead, Gandalf watched her. Sympathy shone in his eyes as he beheld her from afar but Arwen pretended not to notice.

She stepped forward and closed the distance to the doorway, before greeting, "Mithrandir." She glanced into the room at her father. "_Ada_. Am I interrupting?"

Elrond's eyes smiled at his youngest child and held out his hand, indicating for her to enter. "You could never interrupt, my child."

Arwen smiled back and stepped over to the elf lord while Gandalf watched them still from the doorway. Elrond took his daughter's hand in his own and Arwen saw a brief shadow pass his eyes. She could merely guess at what was haunting him so. It could be the Ring or fear for Aragorn, but she could not be certain. Perhaps it was both; in this day and age that was a strong possibility.

Elrond patted her hand. "Will you help me greet our arriving guests? I am afraid I myself will be kept occupied in private council with Gandalf for awhile longer. Your friend Legolas arrived earlier, perhaps he can be of assistance to you."

For the shortest second, Arwen hesitated. She desired to find and help Aragorn; perhaps he would finally open up to her and let her in on his deepest fears. No, it was better to leave him be for now. Turning her gaze up to meet her father's, she nodded. "You know I will always do what my father asks of me."

* * *

As the last rays of the sun shone dimly above the rim of the mountains and the darkening sky begun twinkling with pale stars above, the festivities began. A soft tune played through the evening air, dancing and twirling with the playful wind that blew softly and coolly between all who were gathered in the gardens of Rivendell.

Upon that night, the lights of Imladris shone most astoundingly, amazing all the city's visitors. Most astounded were the race of men who seldom had seen such beauty as they experienced among the heather and rosebushes that night.

The atmosphere was bright, as if the cause of their gathering was not of such a dark character, and all socialized as friends among friends. The only weak hostility which existed was between elves and dwarves, but theirs was a battle of many years old and the peace was kept by keeping to either side of the garden. Only a few elves wandered across the estate to the smaller dwarves while the men roamed freely from once side to the other.

The four young hobbits along with old Bilbo, sat in between the two makeshift camps upon a smaller bench the elves had placed out for them. Before them stood a table filled with exotic sweets and foods they had never seen previously, much to their delight.

They did not wander long distances from their table. Feeling the curious eyes of men, elves and dwarves upon them, they had not the will to be questioned about their presence such a fine night as this. No, even among so many, they kept their hobbit charm to themselves, as most of their kind would have done in their position also.

Pippin regaled a joke to his friends while Bilbo, who sat on Frodo's right side, hummed on another tune and seemed oblivious to the world around him. As Pippin finished his tale, upon which time Merry almost choked on his drink because of laughter, a clear voice joined the evening's tune to sing an old elvish song. The music echoed through the grounds and many stopped conversing to listen, despite not understanding the lyrics sung.

"Here cometh the lady Evenstar," Sam proclaimed and nodded in the direction of the dwarves' side of the garden. Arwen was one of the few of her kind to go there and talk to them. As hostess, it was required of her, and did seem to heighten morale even among the more traditional, elder dwarves.

Next to the dark beauty walked another elf. He was tall and fair and carried himself almost as regally as the lady. As they came closer to them, the hobbits could hear that they spoke the tongue of the elves. As Arwen stopped before their table, she smiled down at them.

"Friends, I hope you are enjoying yourself tonight. I would like you to meet Legolas, son of Thranduil. He has traveled great lengths, from the kingdom of Mirkwood, to attend the council."

"_Mae Govannen,_" Legolas said and the hobbits returned the greeting. (_Well met_)

The two elves joined the hobbits smaller group as the song in the air faded into a new melody.

Arwen smiled at the familiar tune and started humming along with the clear voice. Frodo's head shot up as he realized something. "I have heard this song before. I remember this tune."

"Are elvish songs sung even in your parts of the world?" Legolas asked.

"No," Merry replied shortly. "They're not. I don't recognise this tune at all."

"I _didn't_ hear it in the Shire," Frodo explained and turned to the two elves. "It was Strider who sang it one night. He seemed sad about it. He said it was about a lady Lúthien."

Arwen looked deep into the evening sky as she listened to Frodo talk. "Why was he sad?" she asked.

"I don't know. It could be that it's merely a sad tune; I don't know the lyrics." Frodo shrugged.

"The true story of the elven maid Lúthien's love for the mortal Beren _is_ sad. It is filled with adoration and despair for both of them. Someday I will teach you the lyrics, Frodo," Arwen promised.

Frodo was quiet and thoughtful a few seconds. Distantly he recalled, "Strider said she died. It seemed to sadden him."

Arwen's pale eyes watched him in the evening's light and her soft smile did not reach those silvery depths. Slowly she turned her gaze forward and stared off into space.

Legolas spoke in her stead, "Have you heard the story of Lúthien and Beren?" As the hobbits shook their head, the fair elf continued, "Lúthien was said to be the most beautiful elf to ever have walked this earth, with a face so handsome she could have made the seasons jealous. The lady Undómiel is her descendant and she is believed to have the beauty of her ancestor in her veins, as one can tell easily by a mere glance."

Legolas continued telling the tale of Beren and Lúthien as Arwen listened only with one ear. The hobbits seemed to drink it all in, thirsting for new knowledge like a newborn thirsting for milk. With her strong hearing, Arwen picked up the sound of a dark humming voice coming their way. She knew before she saw him that it was the Grey wizard.

He leaned against his walking staff and seemed lost in his own thoughts as he finally reached them and sat down on the bench beside the lady. They didn't speak to each other for a minute, they merely sat listening to the song reach it's crescendo and then slowly die out into the night, fading into a more cheerful tune. By their side, Sam kept asking Legolas about Mirkwood, questions the elf gladly replied to.

Breaking their silence at last, Gandalf spoke. His voice held an amused edge to it, and there was a mischievous glint to his eyes, "My lady looks thoughtful. She looks as if she has someone on her mind."

Arwen heard the unsaid and knew she need not explain who that _'someone'_ was. "And so the lady has."

"It might interest the lady then to know where this someone is hiding?" Gandalf's words were more of a question than anything and Arwen turned to him in hope.

Ever since that hour that seemed so long ago now, where Aragorn had pulled back into himself and seemingly disappeared, Arwen's heart had ached for him. She could do little to hide her enthusiasm about finding him again. "Where, Gandalf? Will you tell me where?"

"He is inside," Gandalf smiled with a short nod. "I believe you will find him by the shards of his ancestor's sword. Seeking tranquility, perhaps? There are not many who can put themselves in his shoes now. When all is said and done, it will be his decision alone whether or not to step forward and claim his throne."

Arwen once more heard the unspoken question and sighed. Gandalf desired to know if Aragorn had spoken to her about his path, but she had nothing to tell him. "Alas, he has many steps to take upon his given path before he is ready to make any such choice."

"Perhaps he needs a strong hand guiding him," Gandalf suggested.

Arwen frowned at his words. He was doing very poorly in covering up his true meanings behind riddles and words. It was only barely that they danced around the subject, and even then it could not be questioned. It was unlike the wizard to be this straightforward.

"One last question before you depart," Gandalf interrupted her before she could even begin to excuse herself. He placed a light hand on her sleeve, as if knowing his words might send her away and desiring to keep her in place until he was done.

Arwen's frown deepened. "Ask anything, Mithrandir."

"I wondered about your thoughts in a certain area. You see, I desire to know what you would do, if you found _you_ had the chance to save a world of innocents."

"I would do all in my power to help in whatever way I could. As you are aware, Mithrandir," Arwen watched the wizard closely, trying to read his clouded, twinkling eyes.

"Oh, I know," he smiled. "I am merely wondering what it _is_ you can do, my ladyship. Able you are, that we all know. If one need proof all one would have to do is take a closer look at what you did to help young Frodo Baggins, or am I not correct?"

"If you mean to ask if I am capable of defending myself-"

"Ah!" Gandalf interrupted. He squeezed her arm once before giving it a pat. Then he pulled his hand away to take out his pipe that had been hidden within one of his sleeves.

As he lit the pipe, Arwen could not help but feel more confused than before. Gandalf had gone from clarity to hazy riddles and was now sounding more like himself than ever. The wizard winked at her once and Arwen decided to leave before he would draw her deeper into perplexity.

* * *

Arwen's long, pale dress graced the floor as her bare feet walked over the cool tiles of the long hallway. She heard a single voice up ahead, but knew it was not Aragorn's. She recognized it as one of the men's voices, a young lord of Gondor if she was not mistaken. The voice was coming from the room in which Gandalf had said Aragorn was hiding. Was this man talking to her beloved then?

She heard a clang, followed by steps walking swiftly away. She rounded a corner and walked into the hall as Aragorn kneeled by the sword handle of Narsil, Isildur's broken sword. It must have been the sword she had heard hit the floor previously.

Aragorn took up the broken sword and reverently placed the handle back in its place, where he felt it belonged. He drew a deep breath and gazed at the shards with darkened eyes dancing in the moonlight, as two dark pools of a swirling, bottomless ocean. He placed his hand respectfully over his heart and stepped back at the same time as Arwen stepped into the light.

"Why do you fear the past?" she asked carefully, not desiring to be asked to leave now that she had found him at last. "You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate."

As she talked, she walked towards him, coming to a halt a few steps behind. Aragorn's stiff back was still to her and as she finished, she could see his shoulder's slump. He looked defeated and broken even with his back to her.

"_Estel_?" she asked, her voice a soothing whisper.

"The same blood flows in my veins," Aragorn spoke at length, his voice not strong as usual, but filled with agony and pain. He turned slowly and Arwen saw deep into his immortal soul when gazing into his eyes. "_The same weakness_."

"No." Arwen stepped up the three steps so that she stood nose-to-nose with her beloved. She frowned up at him as she saw the defeated look in his eyes. She knew he had always doubted himself, but sometimes she could not understand the length of his self-doubt. "There is no weakness in your blood. Whatever flowed in Isildur's has been lost a long time. _You are not him_."

"Arwen-"

She held up a hand to his lips to silence him. He did quiet, but his blue eyes pleaded with her to stop. Arwen could scarcely believe how small he seemed now, at least in his own eyes. He had never seen what they all saw, a promising heir to a throne long thought forgotten.

"_A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Aragorn,_" Arwen whispered ardently. "_Ú or le a ú or nin_." (_The Shadow does not hold sway yet. Not over you, not over me_.)

The fear in his eyes slowly faded and he pressed his lips to her fingers in a soft kiss. She smiled up at him, glad to see some of his old self returning.

"It's been a long time since we spoke of this, Arwen. Thank you for easing some of my worries."

"Whatever pleases you, my lord," she smiled and took his hand in her own.

Aragorn let out a slow, steadying breath to clear his mind from his darkened thoughts and beliefs. "Everything is moving fast now. Who knows where we shall stand tomorrow, or if we shall even unite at your father's council? The only thing certain is that a great darkness is coming, that we cannot stop."

"But we can fight it back."

Aragorn chuckled softly and the sound echoed through the hall and in Arwen's heart.

"You are always seeing the brightest in everything and everyone, especially me, _melamin_. If your beliefs are correct only time will tell, but I pray you will never lose that part of you. I do not think I could love you as ardently if you saw death in everything."

"Is that all I must do to lose your love? Become brooding and not see my own full potential, my lord?" Arwen teased.

"I _am_ brooding, aren't I, Arwen?" Aragorn sighed once more. "Fear and worry has a death grip around my throat. I worried about Frodo when he was stabbed. I feared for you when you rode off to face the Nine… They are powerful and would have killed you if you had not crossed the river. And now, I worry about the fate of the world. About my own fate."

"There is still hope. _Estel_." Arwen put one hand below Aragorn's chin and lifted it so that his eyes meet hers. She caressed his chin once before making up her mind. She had intended upon waiting awhile longer, but a time like this might not present itself to them once more. "_Aphado nin_." _(Follow me)_

She took his hand in hers and turned but Aragorn tugged her back gently. "_Mas_?" (_Where?_)

Arwen smiled and stepped closer to him. Standing on her toes, she placed a kiss upon his brow. "_Aphado nin_," she repeated and her eyes twinkled up at Aragorn.

As she turned, Aragorn sighed in amusement. If she desired it of him, he would follow her to the end of the world and back. There had never been a question about it. All he did, he did for her.

Arwen's smile grew. She lifted a hand to distantly caress the pendant around her throat. She would give it to him now, along with keeping her promise to become his. She had given her word a long time ago, but now it was time to make true of that promise. If only it could bring Aragorn a little peace of mind and help him find some hope, Arwen would be more than satisfied.

* * *

_TBC._


	3. Council of Elrond

**3. The Council of Elrond**

Aragorn stood upon one of the public balconies, smoking his pipe in the warm, morning breeze.

"_It is mine to give to whom I will…"_

He smiled at the fond memory and his fingers distantly grazed the Evenstar pendant that had now shifted owner and hung around his own humble neck.

"…_like my heart."_

He had never been happier before in his life, or more troubled. By giving her pendant to him, Arwen had given up her immortality. That meant that she would live and die like one of the Men, and lose all chance of finding immortal peace with her kind. Despite this knowledge, Aragorn could not find it in his heart to stop smiling.

She had chosen him, over all others, and had proven her love to him, despite not having to prove anything. He had pondered what he could give her in return. Aragorn was no fool; he knew exactly what it would take of him to make Arwen as happy as she deserved.

Beyond the mountaintops far away, the sky was colored a rich deep red, with streaks of lavender and orange where the sun was beginning to rise on the heavens. It seemed to shine so warm and kindly, that Aragorn wondered if it was the Valar, shining for his and Arwen's love and giving them their blessing.

The scent of the heather caressed his nostrils softly and seemed to have reached a full blossom for it seemed so sweet and innocent to his nose. The gardens below the balcony were greener than ever before and the wind that rustled the leaves seemed especially cheerful, as it blew past and tried to breathe life into those few plants still not awake. Aragorn could not contain his smile and he wondered where his lady was this hour. Perhaps she was thinking of him as well.

"Ah, Aragorn!" a joyful voice sounded from his right. Aragorn turned and saw Gandalf walking towards him in the rising sunlight. "Just the Dúnedain I wished to see."

"Old friend," Aragorn greeted as Gandalf reached him. Even the wizard seemed to be leaning against his staff less heavily today. Gandalf passed the ranger a few steps and slowly took off his shagged, pointed hat. The elder man breathed serenely and leaned forward on the balustrade, putting his hat down by his side.

"It is easy to be deceived by the peace of the elves, isn't it?" Gandalf asked while keeping his eyes on the rising sun and on a few birds that flew in and out of their nest in a tree before them. "And still the war grows ever closer, even to these borders."

Aragorn remained silent. He had learned long ago from many years of being a ranger to wait. If a man wanted something said, sometimes silence could get the answer out of him quicker than other methods. He did not have to wait long.

"Lord Elrond told me last night that the Ring of Power cannot stay here." Gandalf glanced inconspicuously at Aragorn before clearing his throat loudly and extracting his own pipe. Aragorn offered his pipe so that Gandalf could light his own and the wizard accepted the offer mutely. He inhaled a couple of breaths until his pipe was alight and then handed Aragorn's back. Still the wizard was silent a few minutes and Aragorn wondered if the old man was attempting his trick of biding his time. Was Gandalf hoping Aragorn would talk if he remained silent?

"He is right, of course," the wizard said at last. "The Ring must be destroyed, I see no other solution."

Both watched as the father bird in the tree ahead, flew out of the nest to pick a small branch from the clinging plant that hung from the balcony. They remained silent until the bird flew back to where it had come from, its home and safe haven.

"The truth is, Aragorn, that the time of the Elves has passed. If we must place our trust in any race to take control of Middle Earth once more, it is Men."

So had they, at last, reached the core of the conversation and the very reason why Gandalf was here at this hour, seeking him out. Aragorn would not back down now, not least of all when he was strengthened by the pendant around his neck.

"You are asking me to step forward."

"The power does belong with you, _Strider_," Gandalf said the last word teasingly. If he desired to point out the contrast between the ranger and the throne heir, he had struck a chord. Aragorn shifted in his place. Gandalf took notice of this and leaned closer. In a whisper, he added, "I believe you are destined to lead us all to victory."

"I do not want that power." Aragorn inhaled deeply from his pipe and crossed his arms over his chest in a stubborn gesture that made him resemble an overgrown child desiring to play with the other children instead of doing his chores.

"All the more reason why you deserve it!" Gandalf encouraged with a huff.

Aragorn remained silent, having decided not to take the bait so easily. If he said anything now, Gandalf would never stop. He would push on about things the ranger wished to still deny and pretend to keep in the dark.

Aragorn's tension was not lost on the old wizard who cunningly leaned back, he too in silence. The wizard could wait. He could be patient like the fox, as it followed its prey. Patient like the Ring in Frodo's pocket. No, that was a dark sort of patience. Gandalf would be patient like the lady Undómiel. Yes, he would wait as patiently for Aragorn as she was. _Speaking of which…_

"Nice necklace."

Aragorn could not contain his snort of amusement. "Thank you."

A light was lit in the recess of Gandalf's mind and he decided to test a new angle. "So she has chosen mortality. For you."

Aragorn's short intake of breath told Gandalf he had struck mithril.

"She has," Aragorn nodded.

"Mortality is not to be taken lightly, Aragorn. Arwen has chosen to follow her heart. She would never have done so if she did not expect a future for the two of you."

Aragorn understood the meaning of Gandalf's words and reached out a hand to the necklace. "Is it selfish of me, Gandalf, to wish her to keep her faith in me, in us?"

"Only if you do not intend on keeping your own part and what is expected of you in return."

"Estel! Gandalf!" a voice called to them distantly. Both men turned to gaze down at the garden. Arwen was running towards them and Aragorn felt his breath stuck in his throat at the sight of her.

She was dressed in a simple, blue dress as dark as the evening. As she ran, her dress flowed around her every shape and flow of her body, to Aragorn's delight. Once more, as the very first time he had met her all those years ago, Aragorn could have sworn this beauty was the lady Lúthien, come to dance for him at the birth of the morning light.

Arwen came to a halt below them, before Aragorn had fully regained his thoughts.

"_Mae Govannen_," she greeted with a gentle smile.

"Undómiel," Gandalf smirked and glanced between the woman and the man by his side, aware that they had eyes for no one but each other. "Do you wish to join us?"

"Another time. I have been sent to bring you to the council."

"Ah!" Gandalf's smile was dark and cheerless as he put out his pipe. "So it begins."

* * *

As they reached the court, Gandalf walked over to join Frodo, who looked pale even in the warm glow of the morning. Arwen and Aragorn turned to Elrond, who smiled at them both.

"The council will soon start, take your places." His smile stiffened just a fraction as his eyes travelled down to the pendant around Aragorn's neck, but there was no surprise in his pale orbs. Elrond lifted his gaze to meet Aragorn's and the man saw a determination in the elf lord's eyes he had not seen directed at him many times before.

The lord kept his eyes on Aragorn's face, though his next words were directed to his daughter, "Is this your choice?"

Arwen's reply came confident and soft, "It is."

Elrond turned his words to Aragorn now, lowering his voice so that the conversation remained between private ears. "I have told you before; I will not let my daughter marry you unless you have reclaimed your throne. She deserves no less than a King of Men. Do you intend to step up to your rightful heritage?"

Aragorn had no answer to that question, despite it all. His love for Arwen weighed strongly against his nonexistent aspiration for the throne and all the responsibilities that came with leading a nation. Elrond read the anxiety in the ranger's eyes plainly and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"If you put your mind to it and accept the idea, you will succeed," he assured and squeezed Aragorn's shoulder one final time before letting go. "We will talk more of this later. For now, take your seats. It is time we started."

Aragorn bowed his head, glanced a final time at Arwen and then walked over to his seat over on the side. He glanced across the half circle of people at Frodo and smiled, the hobbit grimaced a smile in return.

Arwen took her seat on her father's right as Elrond remained standing before his own seat. Slowly the other guests joined them and took their seats in the half circle, with Elrond, Arwen and two elven advisers' seats before the circle. The chairs were divided according to race; on the right hand side sat the Men, followed by the Dwarves and then came the Elves. Last, on the far left, sat Gandalf and Frodo on the edge. The gathered crowd whispered anxiously among themselves a minute longer before falling silent, allowing Elrond to take center stage.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have all been summoned here to this council today to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth, as we know it, stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."

None dared speak, for they knew the powerful words to be of the truest nature. Whatever was decided today would change the course of the world for eternity and beyond. Slowly, Elrond turned to the hobbit.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Frodo glanced nervously at Gandalf, who game him a short nod, before hopping down from his seat. Elrond pointed with his open palm at the stone table at the center of the half circle and the hobbit slowly made his way there. He took out the Ring from his pocket, looked down at it and then slowly placed it upon the table.

Gasps echoed among the guests and tension arose in the morning air. Though Frodo had his back to them as he walked to his seat, he could feel their curiosity and fear mingle over this small trinket. Everyone started whispering, some saying it ought to be destroyed, others that it ought to be used, and some that it should even be hidden, far away from everything and everyone.

Frodo didn't much care for the last suggestion he heard as he sat down in his seat, that the Ring be hidden with him once more. He had already experienced the negative aspect of that once, he would not go through it again. Still, the words were all kept to low whispers and mutterings; none dared voice their thoughts aloud. It was one of the men who finally took the word.

"In a dream," said Boromir, who was the youngest of the Men to have arrived. As all heads turned to him, he stood from his seat slowly. He was dressed in the finest clothes of the four men, if not counting the soft elvish fabric Aragorn wore, and held the highest rank among those sent from Minas Tirith. His pale eyes gleamed of hope, as he continued, "I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the west a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: '_Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's bane is found'_."

As he spoke, Boromir closed in on the stone table, his eyes did not once look away from the Ring. He now stood with his arm outstretched less than a foot away from the small, dark device that could so easily destroy them all. An unnamed force seemed to tug his arm forward, like a bee to honey, and both Elrond and Gandalf reacted at once. As the elf flew from his seat to shout a word of warning, the wizard opened his mouth and uttered echoing, dark words.

"_**Ash **__**nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul**_."

With his words the sky darkened, the earth shook ominously below their feet and all glanced around anxiously. Boromir swiftly drew back his hand to gaze upon the wizard. Elrond leaned back in his seat and Arwen placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, he patted it thankfully.

As Gandalf finished, he stretched his hand up towards the sky and all the clouds were scattered into the wind. The sun showed its head again, as if never having been gone, and all seemed to return to normal. Boromir had backed all the way to his seat and sat down shakily, leaning heavily against his armrest.

From his seat, Elrond glared beneath thick eyebrows at Gandalf. He opened his voice and for once his tone was anything but friendly towards his old friend. "That tongue has never before been uttered in Imladris by any voice; good of heart or not."

Gandalf took no heed to the warning in Elrond's voice. He merely raised his own determined tone of voice as he turned back to his seat, "I will not ask for you pardon, master Elrond, for the black tongue of Mordor may yet be heard echoing in every corner of the west! This Ring is altogether evil, _it cannot be taken lightly_!"

Foolish and young at heart perhaps, Boromir spoke up again, "It is a gift."

The man stood from his seat, this time more cautiously and spoke his heart's opinion. There was not a soul among the council members who could doubt his plea was anything but passionate and sincere. His words of a rebuilt Gondor and a new era of peace were told slowly and to the point. Aragorn shifted uncomfortably in his seat and listened as Boromir finished his smaller speech with, "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!"

"_You cannot wield it_!" Aragorn insisted forcefully from his seat, drawing the attention of the Gondorian nobleman. Boromir's eyes passed over the ranger in fine clothing curiously. "The Ring answers to no other master than Sauron alone. None of us can control its powers."

"And what would a _ranger_ know of this matter?" Boromir questioned.

Silence descended over the company as looks were exchanged and throats cleared. Boromir watched as the man questioned lowered his eyes without answering and then Boromir turned to see if anyone would provide him with a reply.

The answer came from Legolas. The elf's words were spoken in a calm, sweet tone, but there was no doubt of the anger burning in his eyes that looked upon the standing man. "He is no mere ranger, for he is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. _Heir_ to the throne of Gondor."

Boromir's head snapped back in Aragorn's direction as the latter let out a troubled breath.

"This… is _Isildur's heir_?" Boromir questioned, his voice thick with disbelief. From the left corner of the half circle, Frodo drew in a startled breath. The ranger he had thought was just a common warrior was a missing king as well. The hobbit wondered what more lay hidden beneath the surface of this man.

As Frodo watched Strider shift in his seat yet again, he realized that Aragorn wanted nothing but to get away from the tense silence that was now directed at him. The atmosphere was thick and harsh now, as if you could cut through it with a knife only to have the blade split in half.

"Come now, milord," Arwen spoke in her softest voice. It touched the heart of all present and seemed to ease the tension, like the slow morning sun after a cold, cold night. Her words rolled from her tongue soothingly, reminding Frodo of a lullaby sung to a new born. He could not help but wonder if she was using some form of elven magic on them all. "We are gathered here for the purpose of deciding the fate of the Ring, not to dispute among ourselves over other issues. Please sit, Boromir, son of Denethor, so that we may continue with what must be done today."

Without as much as arguing against her, the man did as asked and sank back into his seat. All were silent as the lady continued. Her voice was not as soft any longer but more matter of fact, as she said, "Lord Aragorn speaks wisely. None but its true master wields any form of power over this ring. It is not for naught that we have heard '_One Ring to rule them all'_."

Still, Boromir would not be convinced. "We _can_ find a way to wield it, milady, if Gondor is simply allowed a chance."

The dwarf Gimli huffed a loud "_Ha_!" and all turned to him. "_Men_?" The dwarf asked through his thick, red beard and mysterious, twinkling eyes. "Has not the race of Men already had their chance? Do not forget, son of Denethor, what history tells us, for was it not a son of Man whom was betrayed to his death by the Ring?"

"That was one man's weak blood. We have further comprehension of matters now, we have learned from the mistakes of Isildur. The mistakes of a week blood line."

"We cannot use it," Gandalf interrupted sternly and left no room for argument in his tone.

From his seat, Elrond leaned forward in his seat and spoke, "There is but one alternative. The Ring must be destroyed."

A whisper dark and slithering as the most evil of serpents sounded from the Ring, Frodo turned to it confused. He sneaked a glance at the others, but no one else seemed to have heard it.

"Destroyed? Then what are we waiting for?!" Gimli snarled. In one fluid motion, he was out of his seat with his axe in tow and marched the short steps up to the stone table before anyone could stop him. Without hesitation he brought his axe up and struck down hard with all his might upon the Ring.

At the same second he struck, Frodo flinched in agony and the lady Undómiel lifted a hand to her temple. Instead of breaking the jewel, Gimli was thrown backwards from the powerful shock of the blow and everyone gasped. All watched the broken axe before Gimli's feet in wonder. The Ring on the stone table however, remained intact and completely unharmed.

As one of the elder dwarves helped Gimli to his feet, Gandalf watched Frodo and Aragorn glanced over at Arwen, both wizard and man with concern in their eyes. The lady noted her lord's gaze but merely shook her head in explanation. The gesture did little to stop his worry, and he kept watching her out of the corner of his eyes.

Arwen, in turn, looked up at Frodo who was looking back at her with a most perplexed, questioning look in his pale eyes. So he had seen it too then; _the Eye of Sauron_. But why only them, why did it seem no one else had seen or sensed it?

As Gimli was led back to his seat, Elrond spoke up amidst the whispers that spread like a forest fire, "As you see, Gimli, son of Gloin, this Ring cannot be destroyed by any force we here possess. It was made in the fires of Mount Doom and only there can it be destroyed. It must be taken deep into the lands of Mordor and cast into the fiery chasm from when it came. One of you must do it."

The silence which descended upon the council now was one of fear and none dared breathe a single word. What Elrond was proposing was no mere simple day's journey, but one adventure that might kill whoever endeavored to become the Ring bearer.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir said with an irritated tone of voice. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more then just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the _Great Eye_ is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. …Not with ten thousand men could you do this!"

Legolas stood from his chair, having found his last nerve tested by this Gondorian. "Have you heard nothing of what has been said at this council? _The Ring must be destroyed_!"

"_Oh_!" Gimli growled from his seat, fully recovered from the blow by now. "And I suppose _you_, _Elf_, think you are the one to do it?! _I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf_!"

At once all elves and dwarves were off their seats in a heated argument, soon joined by Boromir and the other men. Everyone, it seemed, had their own opinion of what must be done and who ought to do it. Gandalf stood and joined the fighting, tired at last of the stupidity of many.

The Ring lay upon its stone throne, thriving from the dispute. Frodo heard the same whisper as before, but it was now sounding pleased as if urging the feud on. Bright flames licked the gold suddenly and Frodo found he could not look away. What was it with this Ring that had all the chosen council members, trusted friends and well taught men, arguing with this passion and command? If they desired to find a way to end its power, they would not find it in the heat of an argument.

Only Elrond, Aragorn and Arwen were the only others to not join in the loud yelling going on in the middle of the half circle. Arwen's eyes were watching the Ring with eyes not blinking, while Aragorn and Elrond both frowned at the quarreling crowd.

This was foolish, indeed. They fought out of fear, though none would ever admit it. None dared take upon themselves this task; none would dare to head off into the dangers of Mordor which Boromir had spoken of.

None… but Frodo. The hobbit could hardly believe his own thoughts, but it made sense. Maybe he had been appointed this Ring for a reason; maybe he had been wrong in thinking he was done with it. Maybe it was _his_ journey which had barely just begun. This was meant to be his burden, no one else's. With a deep intake of breath, he stood from his seat and called loudly, "I will take it!"

None heard him the first time; too busy arguing as they were, too deaf to listen to a voice of reason, so Frodo repeated himself louder. This time all voices silenced quickly enough. He felt all eyes on him and suddenly his courage and determination seemed to falter somewhat. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though… I do not know the way."

Gandalf smiled at his brave, young friend and made a swift decision. He would not leave Frodo alone with this burden, for though he did not doubt the hobbit's strength, he was also aware of the powers of the Ring which could destroy even the strongest of Men. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," he said and walked over to stand beside the hobbit, "for as long as it is yours to bear."

There was only a second's pause, as the situation registered in everybody's minds, before Aragorn swiftly moved from his seat. Arwen watched him with a proud, though heavy, heart.

The ranger kneeled before the hobbit and looked deep into Frodo's wide eyes. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword, Frodo. Now, until the end."

Legolas and Gimli spoke out and joined the growing fellowship next and moved over to join the other three. A dark look passed between the elf and the dwarf, filled with a challenge and a stubborn streak matched only by the other's eyes.

"You carry the faith of us all, little one," Boromir mused as he approached. "If this is indeed the will of the council, Gondor will see it done. I will also follow you."

Suddenly a "Heh!" sounded from a nearby bush and all turned surprised to see Sam jumping out from the green and running over to his master. The gardener crossed his arms over his vest and tried to appear determined. "Mister Frodo isn't going anywhere I'm not."

Elrond raised an amused eyebrow and was just about to reply as Merry and Pippin came sprinting in from the other side, having hidden behind two columns. Elrond's amusement faded into confusion as these two hobbits also joined the fellowship by their friends' side.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry informed and Gandalf did seem awfully tempted from where he stood behind the hobbits. Arwen bit back a smile at the wizard's expression when he suddenly turned his grey eyes on her. He gave her a long, deep look while Pippin spoke.

"You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission… quest… _thing_."

What did the wizard want to say with those eyes, _that look_? His eyes that had always seemed clouded before were now clear as the night sky, and still she had a hard time deciphering what it meant. An untold statement hung in the air between them and Arwen's heart sped up as she recognized the expectation in the bottomless grey gazing into her. As if hatching from an egg, a newborn thought took shape in her head; c_ould she join as well?_

"Nine companions…" Elrond began.

This could be her one chance to help in the still undecided future for Middle Earth. She had told Gandalf that if she ever had the chance, she would do all in her power to help, and he had wondered to what lengths she would go. Could she leave the safe side of the river, into enemy territory, where all was at risk? She made her decision without further thought.

As she rose from her chair, facing the fellowship, she saw the stiffness in Aragorn's shoulders and his wide eyes watching her breathlessly.

"Ten companions," Arwen said. "I, too, will follow Frodo into the darkness of Mordor."


	4. The Fellowship of the Ring

**4. The Fellowship of the Ring**

After Arwen's announcement, everyone in the council fell silent. She could feel the hesitation of most, not believing her ability to go through with this mission. She met her father's gaze strongly, his mouth hung open slightly as he watched her in disbelief. He shook his gracious head slowly in a silent plea.

"I will not let my daughter leave on such a dangerous mission," said Elrond.

"It is my decision, _Ada_," Arwen replied.

"I mean you no disrespect, milady," said Boromir and Arwen turned to watch him. "But women should not concern themselves with war and strife such as this, this is a task unfit for any woman. Not just you."

The hobbits all exchanged glances, they all felt for the elven maiden who had become their friend this last week.

"Why shouldn't she come?" asked Pippin.

"She is a woman!" Boromir repeated.

"And besides that? What other reason is there for not allowing her to come?" asked Merry, none seemed to be able to come up with an answer.

Arwen let her eyes travel to Aragorn's, he watched her with an unreadable look. She could not tell how he felt about her decision and it unsettled her heart.

"I am going," Arwen repeated and walked over to stand next to Gandalf.

"The lady Undómiel is more than capable of coming along, lord Elrond," said Gandalf and winked conspicuously down at her. She smiled at her friend, thankful for the support. "After all, she did face all nine wraiths and survived."

"I do not doubt her skills in battle, Gandalf," Elrond agreed. "But I am unwilling to send my daughter into any risk unnecessary for her."

"We are nine who can protect her from those risks, master Elrond," Legolas promised and bowed his head.

Elrond sighed and then looked at his daughter. "Is this your wish?…Then so be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great," Pippin said with a wide smile. "Where are we going?"

* * *

The rest of the day the ten companions all prepared for their journey, as they were set to leave at break of dawn the following morning. It was not a lot of time to mentally prepare, but enough to make the necessary preparations in body.

A few hours after the council had ended, while the sun was still high in the sky, Elrond found his daughter in one of his libraries. When she heard her father's footsteps, she looked up from the book she was reading.

"If you wish to change my mind it is too late," she said.

"Is there nothing at all I can say to make you see reason?" Elrond asked and sat down on a chair next to her. "Nothing to make you stay with your father and the elves, your people?"

"Father…" Arwen said wearily.

"The time of the elves is over, Arwen. You should go with the rest of our kin to the Undying Lands; you should go to your mother there. If you stay here you may never see her again."

"I do wish to be with her again…" Arwen admitted and opened her mouth to continue but her father placed his hand on her shoulder and interrupted her.

"Then go to her and be safe and content," Elrond pleaded. "Do not stay here for torment and death."

"Oh, _Ada_," Arwen smiled sadly, "Is this your fear? That I will suffer the same fate as mother? What happened to her will not happen to me... But I do miss her. More than I can put into words."

"So do I, Undómiel," said Elrond and smiled sorrowfully at his daughter.

"I cannot go to her, father. I have already made my choice. My future is here in Middle Earth. She would understand... why can't you?"

"Arwen, you do not see," Elrond proclaimed and his eyes burned down on her. "There is only death waiting for you here. Even if we win this war and you wed Aragorn the two of you will still be parted, you will still have to suffer the bitterness of mortality. Nothing will prevent that, whether by old age or in battle, Aragorn will succumb to death. Then what becomes of you? You will be forced to walk this earth until the shape of the world changes."

Arwen sat silently and took in her father's words, she breathed deeply, trying to control the tears that threatened to take over. She could feel Elrond's fear for her, and knew that his words were true. Mortality was the end for the race of Men, and if she stayed it would be her own demise as well. But the maiden of Imladris had made up her mind, and would not be persuaded to change it, so she silently gazed into space.

"_Ah im, ú-'erin veleth lîn_?" Elrond asked and Arwen turned to him, surprised he had to ask. (_Do I not also have your love?_)

"_Gerich veleth nîn, ada_." she promised with a smile. (_You have my love, father._)

"Then please, go to the Undying Lands where I know you will be safe from the dark reach of Sauron."

"You have long known of my choice. I choose mortality for Aragorn; I wish to stay for myself, for my destiny is entwined with his," Arwen confessed and watched her father's face. "If I were to leave him now I would regret the choice for the rest of time. My destiny lies with the race of Men. If I can do but one good to stop the darkness from overtaking Middle Earth and help Aragorn on his path, then I wish to do it."

"At the very least, do not join the fellowship. Remain in Imladris 'till the fate of the Ring is sealed. I cannot foresee your future any longer if you should choose to go with them. It is clouded in shadow and fear."

Arwen placed a gentle hand on Elrond's cheek. "I will be alright. I have never felt safer than when I am with him, _Ada_. I will return."

Elrond sighed and squeezed her hand in his. "I wish you would change your mind, daughter."

* * *

The sun had set behind the mountains and with the darkness of evening came the twinkling stars above.

The stars shone brightly over Imladris, guiding whoever would ask for their guidance but the elven city was silent, no prayers were sent to the sparkling lights above. The fear of tomorrow kept everyone's spirit low and no one knew quite how to spend their last evening of peace.

Frodo spent his last night with his uncle while the other hobbits sat out on a balcony smoking their pipes in companionably silence. Boromir, meanwhile, wandered aimlessly through the gardens of Imladris, watching and contemplating the beauty of the elves, while Legolas and Arwen sat in a study, talking and acting as if tomorrow was no greater than any other day. Gimli spent the evening practicing with his axe, preparing for whatever was to come, and Gandalf sat alone, listening to the silence of the world and lost in deep contemplation.

But the tenth member of the fellowship was neither resting with friends nor training for the future, for his mind was too somber and filled with unspoken fears.

Silently Aragorn walked through the gardens, his steps almost as soundless as that of the elves. He walked determinedly to a secluded spot he had not visited for many years. With slow steps he ascended the worn steps and looked up at the statue and grave of his mother Gilraen. It was covered with dirt and carefully he cleaned it from soil and growing plants with his bare hands. His thoughts reached out to her, the woman who had given birth to him. Though, as so often, his thoughts soon returned to Arwen. He feared for her now more than ever. He wished his mother was there to give him some advice on the matter, for Aragorn himself was witless.

Aragorn sighed. Tomorrow was the beginning of the rest of his life, he felt in his heart that the dawn of this new day brought change with it for him and the other nine of the fellowship. What change he could only guess at, but he knew he seldom was wrong in his speculations. Nothing would be the same as it had once was.

"_Anirne hene beriad i chên lîn. __Ned Imladris nauthant e le beriathar aen," _Elrond's voice echoed in the silent garden, and Aragorn turned to see the elven lord walk closer in the dark. (_She wanted to protect her child. She thought in Rivendell you would be safe_.)

Aragorn turned back to the statue and tenderly stroked a hand across its cheek.

"But in her heart, your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life. That you would never escape your fate. The skill of the Elves can reforge the sword of kings, but only you have the power to wield it," Elrond continued.

"I do not want that power," Aragorn said truthfully. "I have never wanted it."

"You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other."

Aragorn sighed, he remembered having talked briefly of this before the council and he wished dearly to change topic. He considered himself no more than a ranger, he was not ready to talk of what he might one day become, those thoughts could be left for tomorrow. "Did you come here to talk solely of my bloodline?"

Elrond now stood beside him; he heaved a sigh as well. "No."

"You came to talk of Arwen."

"Aragorn, the future belongs to Men," Elrond said solemnly. "Not to elves. Our time here is ending, _Arwen's_ time is ending."

Aragorn turned to look at Elrond as fear crept into his mind. "... What are you saying?"

"I want my daughter to leave with me to the Undying Lands, where she will be safe."

"You said you were fine with her decision," Aragorn breathed, he felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest at the mere thought of Elrond's suggestion. "You allowed her to join the fellowship."

"Aragorn, listen... Your love is timeless and I could never change that, " Elrond said. "I've known of her decision to stay here longer than she has. But her coming with the fellowship is something not even I could predict, and I certainly don't approve of it. I cannot let her enter such a dangerous mission, it is not for the daughter of the high born to venture down that path... I fear for her, Aragorn. I do not know what future she will meet if she follows you on _your_ path."

Aragorn said nothing, but declined his head sadly to the elf who was like a father to him. A part of him respected Elrond's words, while another part of him wished for nothing more than to argue with him.

"I lost her mother to the foul orcs. I cannot lose her also..." Elrond began and had to collect himself mentally before he was able to continue, "If you let her go, she can bear your love to the Undying Lands. There it will be ever green."

"But never more than memory," Aragorn said solemnly.

"You are like a son to me, Aragorn. But my daughter deserves more than a mere ranger. I will not leave her here if you do not step up to your throne, something you cannot even consider at this time," Elrond said and saw the man decline his head in agreement. "Without any promises, I can never leave my daughter here for a cold death. Even if I leave her with you."

"She stays to help Frodo with his dark task," argued Aragorn, and added determinedly, "She stays because she still has hope."

"She stays for _you_. She belongs with her people," Elrond said, there was a sternness to his voice that Aragorn was not prepared for. Elrond paused and his face relaxed into a mournful sigh, "Only if you let her go, Aragorn, will you ensure her safety and future."

Aragorn met Elrond's gaze, without a word he walked pass the elf lord and into the night.

* * *

Too soon for everyone, the dawn of a new day came.

The first light of the sun stretched across the elven kingdom waking up all its inhabitants even as the fellowship finished their preparations for their long journey. None seemed eager to speak for fear hung over them like a dark, heavy cloak close to smothering them with its thick folds.

While the others walked around him, Frodo stood with his uncle. In his belt hung the sword Sting; his uncle had given it to him the night earlier and now it served as a reminder of what was surely to lay ahead for the young hobbit. Bilbo's eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Take care, boy," said Bilbo and hugged his beloved nephew tightly. "Come back to your old uncle one day."

Frodo smiled sadly but made no promises, he could not for he had no idea what lay ahead. He felt the ring hanging against his collarbone. He had moved it from his pocket and hung it on a chain around his neck to keep it safer. He sure it would be a burden to him, but in what way he could not fully comprehend yet. Still he doubted very much that he ever would see his uncle again. Upon feeling a second wave of sadness he pulled Bilbo back for one last hug.

* * *

Aragorn had changed from his elven clothes back to the rangers' outfit he normally wore. Out of all in the fellowship he was the most quiet this morning. Elrond's words from the night before had hit his mind harder than ever before. He had hardly slept that night for the words had kept spinning through his head. He knew in his heart that Elrond was right; Arwen deserved a life without pain but with certainty. Aragorn knew he could not give her that in the position he was in life, the only place she would be safe from the darkness of unknowing was in the Undying Lands.

As the ranger walked through a corridor, he did not hear the footsteps that moved swiftly to catch up with him. "Estel!"

He took a deep breath and stopped. Arwen reached him and smiled up at him, he hesitated to meet her eyes. He noticed she had changed from her usual dresses and now wore a dark brown outfit. She had an elven leather-tunic which reached her hips and was laced at the sides as a black belt held her shirt in place. She wore knee-high boots with elven design and her raven hair was pulled back into a long, perfect braid. In the belt her sword, Hadhafang, hung in its sheath.

"It is almost time. I think I am beginning to get nervous for our quest," Arwen confessed as she caught up to the ranger.

Aragorn said nothing and the elf turned to look at him in confusion. He could not hide his feelings for her and she could plainly clearly saw his hesitance.

"...Aragorn? Is something troubling you this day?"

"Arwen..." The ranger froze and hesitated a beat. Eventually he heaved a great sigh and gazed at her. "I have pondered your choice greatly... and I do not believe you should come with the fellowship. You should stay with your people."

Aragorn could hear the pain in her voice as she spoke, "_Man pennich_?" (_What did you say?)_

"I think it is best if you go to the Undying Lands," the words crushed his own heart and Arwen faltered.

"_Daro_!" she pleaded as he took a step to walk away. He obediently stopped and turned to face her, his eyes not quite able to meet hers. (_Stop_!)

"_Ú-chenion..._" she said with a frown as her eyes searched to meet his. (_I do not understand._)

"_Edra le men, men na wuil edwen, haer o auth a nîr a naeth_." said Aragorn, finally meeting her eyes. It pained him to see the heartbreak in her eyes, but it was the only thing he could do to try to change her mind. If this meant that she would stay where she was safe... then so be it. No matter how much he might regret it. _(You have a chance at a life away from war… pain… grief.)_

"Why are you saying this?" she whispered weakly.

"I am mortal. You are Elf-kind. It was a dream, Arwen. Nothing more," Aragorn felt his heart ache and he hoped he was doing the right thing.

She shook her head slightly. "I don't believe you. Where is this coming from?"

Aragorn took her hands in his, avoiding her eyes once more for fear that she would see into his soul and know he wanted this no more than she. Arwen looked down at their hands as he opened his palm to reveal the Evenstar and felt her heart shatter in two. He was trying to give her heart back to her.

"This belongs to you," he said slowly.

"It was a gift," she said in the coldest voice Aragorn had ever heard. Her cobalt eyes were dancing with tears that threatened to spill. She closed his hand around the Evenstar once more. "Keep it."

"Arwen…" he whispered but she turned without another word and started walking away.

She stopped mid-step and turned back to watch him sadly. A tear slid down her pale cheek as she uttered a low, "I am going with the fellowship to help Frodo in any way I can. That is the choice I have made for my future. What happens after our quest, I do not know. That has always depended upon your decision... and it still does."

With those words, she turned around and swiftly walked away. Aragorn sighed in agony as he was once more left alone. In his heart he was both thankful that she had not changed her mind, and saddened that he had bestowed upon her great pain. Who knew what heartbreak lay for them further down the path they were soon about to travel on. She had made it clear with her words that she was willing to weather out the storms with her, a sentiment he felt in his heart but had not been able to share with her.

He looked at the Evenstar in his grasp before putting it back on around his neck.

* * *

"Arwen," the lady stopped as she heard her father's call to her. She dried her tears and turned around to face him.

There was a grim look on his face as he looked at her outfit and it turned grimmer still when he saw traces of the tears which had spilled from her eyes.

"I am sorry it had to come to this," Elrond spoke as he stopped before his daughter. She hardly noticed the package in his hands.

Arwen held her head high as anger threatened to overtake her heart. "Did you ask him to talk to me?"

The elf lord lowered his gaze and nodded. "Yes... I-"

"You shouldn't have," Arwen interrupted and met her father's gaze boldly. "In all my life, I have always done what you have asked of me. But this is _my _choice. Mine alone... I could not tell you what lies ahead. The future is still unwritten. But I can't sit idly by when an inexperienced, young hobbit dares risk his life for the sake of the whole world. I _will _do whatever I can to keep him safe."

"Your words are harsh," Elrond sighed, "...but justified. You have always followed your heart, my youngest child, just like Celebrían. I do not agree with some choices you have made, but there is nothing I can say to change your heart... Therefor, I bring a peace offering."

He held out the package for her and she took it from his hands. She frowned in confusion as she unwrapped it, inside lay a shirt of chain mail armor She picked it up and it weighed practically nothing in her slender hands. Its sleeves would reach her elbows and lengthwise it would go mid-thigh, with two slits on the sides so that she could move and run without being hindered by the hauberk. Arwen looked back up at her father.

"You're giving me your old hauberk?" she asked.

Elrond smiled down at his daughter. "Last time I wore it the Ring corrupted Isildur... It is strong, forged from the best metal of elves. It is not as strong as mithril but wear it always, it will keep you safe. I had it re-sized to fit you; I hope it will keep you protected as it kept me."

Arwen smiled and hugged her father tightly. "_Hannon le,_" she whispered in his ear, he hugged her back but still she felt his doubt over her decision.

"Arwen..." Elrond began and pushed back slightly so that he could gaze into his daughter's eyes. "Though it is hard for me to admit, you must do what is right by you. I fear I shall always wish you return before you are hurt. May the Valar keep you safe and bring you back to me. Come now, hurry up and put on your hauberk, it is almost time."

* * *

"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him, no oath, nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you," said Lord Elrond addressing the Fellowship before him. "Farewell..."

The time had arrived for their departure and the ten members of the fellowship stood ready by the gates of Rivendell. The pony, Bill, was to accompany the group and Sam held the pony tight by the reins.

After Elrond had spoken Aragorn, Legolas and Arwen bowed their heads to him and Gandalf inclined his head slightly.

"The fellowship awaits the Ring bearer," Gandalf spoke and watched Frodo.

The young hobbit realized the wizard meant him, turned towards the exit and slowly walked first out of Imladris. Frodo knew he was already completely lost and whispered back, "Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?"

"Left," Gandalf immediately replied and followed the hobbit.

The rest of the fellowship soon followed; last to leave were Arwen and Aragorn.

Arwen looked up at her father once more as she pondered the gift of the hauberk she now wore beneath her tunic. She knew it had not been a blessing for her to depart, but indeed a way to calm her father's mind more than her own. The unhappiness in his face was plain for his daughter to see and to part from him hurt Arwen's heart also.

She managed a slight smile however and reached out to him with her mind. _I will return_.

He bowed his head and Arwen knew he would be watching over her during her journey, wherever it might take her.

She turned around and her eyes met Aragorn's. From the way he shifted from one foot to the other, it was plain he was merely waiting for her. She felt no anger towards him, she was sure she never could. All she felt was sadness over his words which she still did not understand. She solemnly looked away from both her father and her beloved as she walked out of her home, with the ranger close behind.

And so the journey of the Fellowship of the Ring began.

* * *

_Review if you wish it!_**  
**


	5. Start of the Journey

**5. The Start of the Journey**

The fellowship travelled over far-stretched terrain, over plains and hills. Gandalf led their way, for he knew more of the dangers ahead than the others. Aragorn, who had lived his life as a ranger and travelled these lands several times gave Gandalf advice whenever the wizard asked for it. But more often he remained at the very end of their trail, keeping an ever-watchful eye for danger. Their speed was slower than normal to accommodate for the smaller strides of the hobbits, but they had no trouble keeping up with the others. Still the journey was tiresome and their shorts legs were weary.

By day the fellowship walked and by night they all slept. It was especially at night that they keep a watchful eye out for danger, for none trusted the dark shadows that lingered over the moonlit landscapes.

They also stopped twice a day to eat, and it was at one of these stops that Gandalf informed them; "We must hold this course West of the Misty Mountains for forty days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there our road turns East, to Mordor."

After his statement everyone fell silent, looks passed between them and heavy was their unease. They had been on the road for a week now, and so far everything had been easy, however they knew things would not stay like that for much longer. But not all let themselves be downcast, for these stops were also their only chance to get to know each other better and practice their skills before a real fight.

Boromir, who sat closest to their small bonfire, sharpened his long sword as Merry and Pippin looked on in wonder. The man looked up at the hobbits and asked with a friendly voice, "Master hobbits, how fare your skills in battle? If we are all to survive it is of great importance that we all know how to defend ourselves."

Merry and Pippin shrugged innocently while Frodo and Sam exchanged a quick glance.

"It could use some improvement, I suppose," Sam admitted and turned back to Boromir.

"Then up!" said Boromir as he brushed dust from his pants and stood from the ground. His sword lay in his hand as he smiled down at the Halflings. "Let me help teach you."

The man then turned to the elf and man who were seated on the ground further away, "Legolas, Aragorn, will you help me?"

Aragorn, who was smoking his pipe, swiftly extinguished it and rose to his feet. "Aye, I will help."

He pulled his sword from its sheath and nodded to Boromir. Boromir then turned to Arwen, who sat with a far off look on her face, and asked; "And what of you, milady? Would you care to practice your skills with a blade?"

She nodded and moved to stand beside the hobbits as Boromir started by demonstrating a few simple defense moves. As he did, Arwen felt Aragorn's eyes on her, but she kept her gaze on the other man's lesson.

This past week Arwen and Aragorn had spoken few words in private and in secrecy it pained them both. Arwen still felt wounded by his words in Rivendell, the very thought of him being able to discard their love hurt more than she had cared to admit. Deep in her heart she knew Aragorn had always held insecurities and knew this had more to do with his throne than the two of them. She could sense that his feelings for her were alike her own for him, as was the pain and sadness inflicted upon their relationship. The Evenstar pendant still hung around his neck, and she knew it was an expression of his love and a silent plea for forgiveness.

Boromir called her name and she was drawn from her thoughts. She turned to him and he repeated his question, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, milord," Arwen answered, "I am ready to practice."

Boromir nodded at her before acknowledging his idea to team them up, Boromir paired the hobbits against each other while he overlooked their combat, coming with suggestions here and there to improve their skills.

This meant that Aragorn and Arwen were left to spar with each other.

The elf lady turned to the ranger and he bowed his head before moving one foot back into a defensive position. He raised his sword and waited.. Arwen swiftly jumped forward, with Hadhafang in her slender hands, and attacked. He easily blocked her attack with his own blade and moved closer to continue their sparing. She blocked his advantage and pushed his sword away, he moved to attack again but she slipped out of the way easily. The two stood watching each other, waiting for the other's next move. Neither were trying very hard to best the other, so gentle were their sparing indeed.

In this manner their training continued a few minutes 'til Aragorn held up his hand for her to stop. Arwen stopped and lowered her sword quickly. He stood close to her now, and Arwen could see a few beads of sweat forming on his handsome face. She felt her heart melt at the sight in his eyes, it was a mixture between desperation and restraint, love and devotion. He moved even closer and whispered, "Arwen… Let us go somewhere and talk. Too long have we been silent with one another."

Arwen said not a word as her face remained stoic, but within a heavy storm clouded her thoughts. Hurt and anger were still mixed with raw love within her veins and the confusion of it all only swirled around and around in her mind. She knew he was right, and still it was a hard truth to admit to. In fact, she had begun to dread that perhaps he had been right, at least in part, even in the words he had spoken in Rivendell.

She cast her eyes downwards and heard him release a heavy sigh. He bowed his head and stepped back, declining his own head. Her eyes moved upwards and her heart reached out to him, she opened her mouth to speak but then Boromir walked over to them, interrupting what ever she had meant to say.

"You fight well, milady. I feel I owe you an honest apology for my condescending words in Rivendell. I should not have said that you as a woman should not have been able to come. You fight bravely, if not a bit too gently. I hope you can forgive this poor fool of Gondor," said Boromir.

Arwen's eyes flickered briefly to Aragorn while answering, "You need not ask for forgiveness, I have already given it."

With those words she turned from both men and walked away. Boromir watched her leave somewhat perplexed and turned to see if the ranger had understood more than he had. Aragorn felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips, and the small smile only served to confuse the Gondorian even further.

Gandalf nodded his head slowly after having watched the hobbits practice, and stood from the rock on which he had been sitting. "We have rested far too long. It is time we continue a little while longer before nightfall. Come along now, let us be hasty. Legolas, you take the lead."

* * *

One night, a few days later, they set up their small camp by some blossoming bushes. A fair and sturdy mountain protected them from the cold, like a protecting mother covers her children from danger. By the burning campfire Boromir sat telling stories from his home, Gondor. But not many were listening all too intently, for the walk had been long that day and they were all beginning to tire. Sam yawned loudly while Merry already rested on the ground snoring next to Pippin. Pippin elbowed his friend in an attempt to stop the snores for he wished to find sleep as well. Frodo, who sat leaned against a rock, smiled tiredly at his closest friends.

Legolas stood watch in the night, his elf eyes seeing farther in the dark than the others. Only Arwen saw as far as him and this advantage was of great importance to the fellowship. Should anyone sneak up on them they would not go unnoticed for long. Beside the elf sat Gimli leaned against a rock, snoring gruffly.

Boromir, upon noticing he had lost the hobbits interest, turned to his sole listener - Arwen -, who was looking deep into the fire. In truth the maiden's thoughts were occupied on other things, but out of reverence she listened to his stories, and a small smile played on her lips as she noticed his undivided attention had turned to her now.

"Have you ever been to Gondor, lady Arwen?" asked Boromir.

She shook her head, a few strands of loose her fell before her shoulder as she did. "I have not often been outside the realms of the elves."

"Why not?" Boromir asked.

"In part because my father wishes to protect me," she said. "Many years ago he lost his companion, my mother, and since he has done much to protect his children from meeting the same fate."

Boromir nodded and smiled understandingly at her. "My brother and I lost our mother, too, long ago and I can relate to such a heartache."

Gandalf sat on the ground next to Aragorn and had long seemed to be deep in contemplation. Suddenly, he jumped up from the ground without any warning and startled the ranger, who nearly dropped his pipe. The wizard looked at all those still awake, "I think it is time we all turn in for the night. Legolas, will you take first guard tonight?"

The blond elf nodded affirmatively and the others moved about to prepare for another night of sleep.

"Good night," Frodo called as everything fell silent; everyone still awake enough - and a sleep-talking Pippin - repeated the words. Soon everyone was tucked in and the silence of night hung over them like the covers of a bed. The only other sound came from the slow, crackling fire.

After several long minutes, Arwen sighed deeply. She could not sleep. As an elf, she did not acquire much sleep anyway. She sat up and cast a glance at Aragorn's resting form where he lay with his back towards the rest of the group.

She stood up and walked over to Legolas who sat on the hill close by. She sat down behind her friend and leaned so that they sat back to back.

"Sleep will not find me tonight," said Arwen and she felt Legolas nod in understanding. The two friends sat silently, watching the night until Arwen started humming a tune.

Her eyes returned once more to Aragorn as she softly started singing Lúthien's song,

"_Ir Ithil ammen Eruchîn  
menel-vîr síla díriel  
si loth a galadh lasto dîn!  
A Hîr Annûn gilthoniel,  
le linnon im Tinúviel._"

As she sang she saw Aragorn shift on the ground. When she finished he turned towards her and their eyes met.

* * *

Next day the journey continued and everything seemed to go as smooth as before. They had still not met anyone on their journey across the plains. However, at their midday stop, their luck took an unfortunate turn.

They had set up camp on a rocky hill upon which Sam had cooked a meal that all had enjoyed. Boromir then trained with Merry and Pippin to improve their swordsmanship, but Arwen had declined training. Instead she had opted to watch the hobbits practice while she also kept a watchful eye out for danger. On a rock further away sat Frodo with Sam and the two were chatting while, too, watching their friends' practice. Beside them, Legolas and Gimli were having a minor quarrel over one matter or another.

Higher up on a few rocks sat Gandalf with Aragorn, smoking their pipes. The two old friends sat in comfortable silence, but the wizard noticed the man sneak a glance in the woman's direction.

"Patience," Gandalf offered as advice. "Just be patient."

Aragorn nodded and shrugged an eyebrow in silent agreement.

"Well… What are you waiting for?" Gandalf then asked and the ranger found himself confused.

"You just told me be to be patient..." Aragorn mused and glanced at the wizard with a pointed glare.

"Yes..." Gandalf agreed shortly.

"Is this another one of your riddle speeches?" Aragorn asked with a smile.

"Mm..." the wizard nodded. "Aragorn, do not give up before even attempting. Patience is important, but hope and trust are key. She has unwavering hope and trust in you... the least you can do is offer the same to her. If you do not offer it to her soon, she will waver... Not even I can tell you what will happen if she does."

Aragorn pondered the wizard's words and then jumped up from the hill. He walked down to Arwen and simply stood next to her. She watched him in silence and for a frightened second he thought she was going to leave. She merely took a small step sideways to give him more space upon the rock beside her. He smiled warmly at her and sat down to watch Boromir, Merry and Pippin. Boromir was complimenting Pippin's skills and Aragorn offered some friendly advice.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they are not," Gimli spoke up after having lost the quarrel with Legolas. "I'd say we were taking the _long_ way round. Gandalf, why don't we pass through the mines of Moria? My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome."

Gandalf shook his head and something flashed in his pale eyes. "No, Gimli, I would not take the roads through Moria unless I was left with no other choice."

Arwen had been listening to the conversation but everything suddenly faded as she spotted something on the horizon. It was still too far away, but she could sense the darkness and ill-omen already. Only Gandalf noticed her sudden stiffness and conspicuously wandered around the training group to join her side.

Meanwhile Boromir accidentally cut Pippin, who revenged it by kicking the man on the shin. Together Merry and Pippin jumped on Boromir to bring him down, Boromir laughed as he lay defeated on the ground. Aragorn jumped off the rock to break up the friendly fighting.

"Gentlemen, that's enough," he said but the two hobbits turned on him and flipped him easily to the ground. The others laughed at the surprised look on the ranger's face.

Gandalf had jumped onto the rock where Aragorn had recently sat and gazed from the sky to the elven maiden. "What do you see?"

"What is that?" asked Sam, as he too saw what appeared to be a black cloud upon the horizon.

"Nothing, it's just a wisp of clouds," Gimli dismissed and squinted his eyes at the skies.

"It is no cloud, Gandalf..." Arwen warned in a dark voice and shared a knowing look with the wizard. "It is moving towards us, swiftly and against the wind."

Legolas's keen eyes were the first to see it for what it truly was, "Crebain from Dunland!"

"_Hide_!" Aragorn immediately shouted and ran for his sword.

Everyone shot up from their seats taking with them their possessions, not leaving anything out in the open to be seen by the birds. Sam hurriedly threw water on the flames, before Legolas dragged him to a safe spot. Aragorn pushed Frodo beneath a rock and then took a hold of Arwen pulling her down with him. Everyone hid beneath the rocks and bushes, hoping they would not be spotted.

For a long while nothing happened and there was only complete silence around them. Arwen looked back at Aragorn who signed for her to remain quiet. Then, suddenly, several black birds came screeching above them. The birds circled the hills twice before turning back the way they came. Flying back to Isengard and their master. As soon as they were gone, the Fellowship crawled out of their hidings.

"Spies of Saruman," said Gandalf as he climbed out, "It is as I feared, the passage south is being watched. We must change course and take the pass of Caradhras."

* * *

As they neared the high mountains, Arwen was suddenly filled with a dark sensation of dread. She did not often like to travel over the mountains; it held too many painful reminders of the past. Gandalf started leading the way up and Merry, Pippin, Boromir and Legolas followed. Arwen took a deep breath and stopped by the base of the mountain.

"_Barazinbar,_" Gimli mumbled in wonder as he moved around her and up the mountains.

Sam and Frodo walked up next and stopped next to the elven maiden. Sam hesitated but eventually asked, "What is it, Arwen?"

"These passes hide many shadows. I lost my mother to these mountains," Arwen confessed in a gentle voice. "She was attacked by orcs many years ago while taking the Redhorn Pass and received a poisonous wound. My father could only heal the physical wounds, but her mind was too broken after the experience. She felt she could no longer dwell in this world and left us behind to sail to the Undying Lands."

Frodo and Sam offered their condolences before they continued up the mountains. Sam turned back to Frodo and whispered in a scared voice, "Is not Caradhras another word for Redhorn? Are we journeying over the same pass?"

Aragorn, who walked last, came up to stand close beside her, his arm brushing up against her. He looked at her profile and said softly, "I know you miss her."

Arwen nodded. "Just as you miss your mother. I have come to accept the fact that I will never see her again, however. For reasons I know she would have understood."

Aragorn said nothing more but offered her his hand. She took it with a small smile and together they ascended the mountain.

* * *

The mountain was covered in thick, deep snow and the hobbits had to struggle to even walk through it. Most difficulties had Frodo who was close to slipping several times and was now in the very back of the line, with only Aragorn and Arwen behind him.

Taking a step on his unsteady feet, Frodo lost his balance entirely and lost his breath as he rolled downhill on top of the snow.

"Frodo!" Aragorn called out and ran to help the fallen hobbit. He kneeled in the snow and stopped the dizzy hobbit who smiled up at him gratefully.

The Fellowship ahead stopped to watch the events. As the ranger helped Frodo up to his feet, Arwen helped brush the cold snow from his clothes. Suddenly, a frightened thought seemed to enter Frodo's mind for he reached for his chain but found it no longer hung around his neck.

As he looked up, Frodo froze. The Ring lay discarded further up in the snow and Boromir had walked over to it. With a firm hand, the man lifted the Ring from the snow and gazed down at it with unconcealed wonder.

"Boromir," Arwen said gently and took a step closer, hoping to coax him from the danger.

"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing." Boromir was clearly transfixed with the Ring. "Such a little thing."

"_Boromir_!" Aragorn called more harshly and Boromir was drawn from his trance and turned to look at the ranger. "Give the Ring to Frodo."

Boromir turned to watch the young hobbit and then his eyes sought out the Ring once more. The desire that had burned so passionately earlier was replaced with a weak fear as realization hit him. He walked over to them and offered the Ring back to Frodo.

"As you wish," he said and the hobbit yanked the chain from Boromir's hand. "I care not."

Boromir smiled and looked at Aragorn, who returned the glance with nothing but restraint and hesitation. Boromir laughed slightly and tousled Frodo's hair as if attempting to cover his recent lapse. The man then heaved his shield back on his back and started moving up the mountain once more, the moment seemingly forgotten.

Arwen and Aragorn exchanged another look before Aragorn slowly released the hold he had held on his sword handle.

Frodo's eyes were glazed over as he watched the small Ring in his hand. After a few seconds he raised his gaze to look up at the elf maiden. "What if it happens again?"

"We won't let it happen again, Frodo," Arwen reassured. "We'll be on our guard from now on."

"Can you guarantee that? ...Can you guarantee that it will not happen to all of us? Isn't that, after all, what it wishes? I can feel it thrives from your quarrels already," the young hobbit admitted and hasted to throw the chain around his neck again and tucked it beneath his shirt. "It will happen again, won't it? And there's no telling who'll be next."

* * *

Further up the mountain a heavy snowstorm hit them. The snow was now waist-high on the tall men and the hobbits had to be carried as to not get stuck in the white ocean of frost.

Boromir carried Merry and Pippin while Aragorn held Sam and Frodo in his strong arms. In the end of the line Gimli pulled Bill behind him while Gandalf struggled at the front. Only the two elves had no problem with the snow and walked atop it as if they weighed no more than a feather. Legolas remained at the front while Arwen stayed in the back. The strong wind that whipped snow into their eyes complicated matters even for the elves.

Arwen walked over to the edge of the path and gazed into the storm. "I hear something."

The rest of the fellowship tensed behind her as Legolas hurried to her side, and both of them tried intently to hear anything over the roaring wind. Indeed there was a voice over the wind which echoed louder and louder in the distance.

"There is a foul voice on the air!" Legolas confirmed.

The others listened, too, and Gandalf shouted, "It's Saruman!"

A great cracking sound was heard from above. Everyone turned to see what it was; a large block of snow had broken free overhead and fell towards the fellowship's location. They shouted in surprise and scrambled to try and cover themselves as best as possible. Legolas hurried to pull Arwen away form the edge of the cliff as the giant snow block barely missed them on its deadly path down the side of the mountain.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn shouted. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"_No_!" Gandalf shook his head and broke out from the snow to stand atop of it. He held on to his hat as he moved closer to the edge, Arwen supported him from the foul wind. He pushed her away so that he could lift his staff and utter the words, "_Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith_!" (_Sleep Redhorn, rest, lie still, stop the wrath!)_

Saruman's voice still echoed across the mountains and the clouds above suddenly darkened, a lightning bolt struck out from the clouds and hit the rocks above. A second avalanche fell on the fellowship, this one more violent than the last. Arwen pulled the wizard away from the edge only seconds before the snow slammed down atop the fellowship.

The snow buried them completely and the mountains were once more silent and still in the night.


	6. Moria

**6. Moria**

The frosty coat of snow lay still for several moments until Legolas suddenly broke through it and breathed the fresh air. He crawled out from the snow easily and looked around him at the untouched white mass.

From near where he had crawled out did Gandalf and Arwen soon dig themselves out as well, brushing snow from themselves as they crawled out. Gandalf breathed heavily and watched the snow anxiously until Aragorn broke the surface with Frodo and Sam. Legolas hurried over to help Boromir as he too appeared with Pippin and Merry in his safe grasp. Last, but not least, Gimli broke the surface with the pony Bill and Legolas hurried to help him too.

The cold wind whipped at the already frozen fellowship and the snow seemed to come down even harder than before. Only Arwen and Legolas remained unaffected by the cold while the others were trying to keep from shivering, especially so the small hobbits. Their skins were turning a pale blue tint and their lips were slowly draining from all color. Arwen crawled over to Aragorn to help ease his load, she lifted Sam from his grasp as he smiled thankfully. Aragorn held the shivering Frodo closer and tried to warm him.

"We must get off these mountains!" Boromir shouted over the foul wind as Legolas lifted Merry from his grasp to help ease his burden as well. Boromir continued, "We should make for the gap of Rohan and then take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn shouted back.

"If we stay here we will only succumb to the bitter cold! We cannot remain!" Arwen argued. "Where do we go?"

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it," Gimli suggested, brushing snow from his red beard. "Let us go through the mines of Moria."

From his location at the front, Gandalf's face fell and he hesitated to comment. He did not trust the mines, they weren't safe. The dwarves had delved the tunnels to greedily and in the dark had awoken things that ought not have been awoken.

"Let the ring bearer decide," the wizard finally said in a slow, solemn voice. Frodo's head whipped up in Gandalf's direction, the decision now lay in the hobbit's hands. "Frodo?"

Frodo looked once more at the wizard and noticed his scared hesitation. He did not want to go through the mines for untold reasons. The hobbit knew, however, what he had to do; he could not let his friends die up here.

"We will go through the mines," Frodo decided and saw Gandalf's sadness.

"So be it," the wizard said gravely.

* * *

The road downhill proved to be easier than the road uphill. But still the snow was hard to struggle through and both Boromir and Aragorn had a few problems with keeping their balance without falling with their added weight of a hobbit. Boromir could feel Pippin's teeth clatter and he did his best to warm the young hobbit.

"It's not much further, Peregrin," Boromir promised. "Don't give in to the cold just yet."

The other three hobbits were shivering uncontrollably as well, their small size made the cold bite them the hardest.

"How much further?" Boromir shouted to Gimli, who still was walking at the end with Bill.

"Only a few hours!" the dwarf encouraged in a cheerful tone.

"Ah, the mines of Moria," Gimli continued and called to Arwen who walked in front of him with Sam in her arms, "You will find, milady, that Moria is a very generous place. Even to elves."

"So I am told, master Gimli," said Arwen amused. Legolas who walked in front chuckled. Upon hearing this, Gimli huffed indignantly and refused to talk to either elf for a long while.

* * *

By nightfall they finally got off the mountain and reached the path leading to the West Gate of Moria. They walked the rocky path, that was dimmed in a thick fog, and as their warmth returned, the hobbits were set down to walk on their own. Sam took the reins of Bill from Gimli who scurried to the front of the group.

After another hour of walking, the dwarf suddenly stopped and exclaimed, "Ah, the walls of Moria..."

Everyone else haltered beside him and looked up at the tall, flat wall that seemed to stretch on for a long time still. They all exchanged confused looks behind Gimli's back. There was no door to be seen.

"Generous?" Sam whispered confused as he patted Bill's muzzle. Legolas and Arwen exchanged an amused look.

Without voicing their hesitations, the fellowship followed Gimli on the stone path by the wall. To their amazement, the dwarf would stop now and then to knock on the wall with his sturdy axe.

"What are you doing?" Pippin finally asked curiously.

Gimli placed his hand on the hobbit's shoulder and explained, "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed."

"Yes, Gimli," said Gandalf and touched the wall as well. "Their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Legolas asked Arwen who tried her best to hide her laughter. Gimli growled but let the comment slide.

"I'm assuming it's forgotten then?" Pippin asked and Gimli pretended not to have heard that remark either.

Aragorn stepped up behind Arwen and she noticed his eyes were watching the dark lake close by the path. "Tell me I'm the only one who's sensing that?" he whispered in her ear.

She knew what he meant before he asked. She had already felt a darkness in the cold waters, something uncontrollable and unwanted. Something better left undisturbed. She shook her head and whispered back, "Let's stay as far away from it as possible."

In the darkness of the night, no one in the fellowship felt particularly safe and all wished that the gate be found soon, so that they could escape into a protected realm.

Gandalf then stopped by the wall and the fellowship waited on baited breath. The wizard whispered, "Ah, let's see. Ithildin. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight."

He turned around just as the moon appeared behind the clouds. On the wall behind Gandalf, the outline of a carved door suddenly shone. Everyone watched it in awe as Gandalf produced a content, "Hmm."

"What does it say?" asked Merry as he gazed up at the intricate design and scripture of the illuminated door.

"It reads: 'The doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter'," Gandalf translated for them.

"What do you suppose that means?" asked Merry in awe.

"Oh, it's quite simple," said Gandalf. "If you are a friend you speak the password and the doors will open."

The wizard pressed the end of his staff against the stone and called, "_Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen_."

Nothing.

The others exchanged glances as Gandalf tried again with another spell.

"Nothing's happening," Pippin pointed out after a few minutes and Gandalf huffed. The wizard leaned against the wall and tried to push it open by force.

"Oh, I think it moved!" Pippin exclaimed and the wizard looked down at him with new hope in his eyes. The hobbit immediately cringed and shrank back. "Sorry, it was meant as a joke..."

Gandalf rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. "I once knew every spell in all the tongues of the Elves, Men and Orcs."

"What are you going to do then?" asked Pippin innocently.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took!" the wizard proclaimed and his voice turned angry. "And if that does not shatter them and I am allowed a little peace from foolish words I will try to find the opening words."

"Might as well get comfortable," Boromir said to Aragorn and placed his shield on the ground. "This might take awhile."

* * *

Time passed slowly and it did not take long before everyone became restless. As Sam handed out some elvish bread, Gandalf declined the kind gesture as he was deep in thought. He had tried every spell he could think of, but nothing had unlocked the mighty door of the dwarves.

"Samwise," Aragorn called and the hobbit hurried back to the ranger who stood by the horse. Aragorn patted Bill on the throat and looked down at the hobbit with a saddened gaze. "It is time to let Bill go. The mines are no place for a pony."

Sam reluctantly nodded and unloaded the important things from the horse before removing the reins. Both Aragorn and Sam watched as the red pony hurried back down the path. The ranger put a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "He will find his way home, Sam."

"I hope so, Strider," said Sam as he watched the pony disappear in the distance. "I sure hope he does."

Suddenly, Aragorn heard the splashing sound of water and turned around to see Merry throwing rocks into the lake. The stone sank into the dark abyss and the ranger hurried over to stop Pippin from mimicking his friend. He grasped hold of the hobbit's arm and silently gazed out at the waters. The surface was still once more.

"Do not disturb the water," Aragorn warned. "You do not know what shadow dwells here."

Pippin dropped the stone on the ground as he and Merry looked out at the water with wide eyes.

Legolas, who stood further away, turned to Gimli then and asked, "How come you do not know the password, you who have spoken so warmly of this, the realm of dwarves?"

Gimli huffed, "Oh, well… You see, my friend… I…"

"You were never told of it, were you?" Legolas said, with a gentle smirk.

Gimli growled at the elf, "I will not dignify that question with an answer. It is an ancient password, once known by Durin's folk, but we were forced to leave because of those filthy orcs. We met them in battle, before my time, and my kindred eventually bested them. But my people were hesitant to return, until finally my cousin Balin stepped foot in our former home once more with a company of my folk, hoping to re-open our grand city. Only Erebor was said to have outshone the mines of Moria. It just so happens that I do not know the password."

Over by Gandalf, Arwen and Frodo sat watching the door. Arwen tilted her head to the side as Gandalf tried to push it open once more.

"You will not able to shift it, Gandalf. You know that, so why do you keep trying?" she asked.

"Because I have hope, Undómiel. I will not give up until I see no other option," he tried pushing it a final time and then turned back to the elf. "You wouldn't have the knowledge of some spell of the past elves I might have overlooked?"

Arwen shook her head. "I am sorry, I know no elvish words to help you get into the territory of the dwarves. I am uncertain any such spell exists."

Gandalf nodded with a sigh and turned back to the door again. A few minutes of glaring at it, he finally gave up and turned back. He threw his staff exasperatedly on the ground next to Arwen before taking place himself on a rock next to Frodo. The young hobbit suddenly rose from the ground, seeing the connection between the written words and his thoughts.

"Of course, that is it..." the hobbit breathed.

Meanwhile, the others noticed a wave upon the lake suddenly ripple the surface. The Gondorian moved closer to the ranger.

"There is no wind here. What is that?" Boromir whispered but the other man had no answer.

"It is a riddle," Frodo spoke and the others turned to him in confusion. Frodo continued, "Speak 'friend', and enter. What's the elvish word for friend?"

"_Mellon_," said Gandalf.

The stone doors creaked loudly then and opened wide, everyone was joyous to finally get inside the mines. Aragorn cast a final glance at the lake. The water was still again, he noticed, like the calm before the storm.

"Well done," Arwen said to Frodo and patted his arm before following Gandalf into the mines and handing the wizard back his staff.

"Soon, my elven friends, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves," Gimli said, addressing Legolas in particular. "Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home my cousin Balin restored. And they call it a mine. "

They took in their surroundings but none noticed the shadows until Boromir, who had also been among the first to enter, commented, "This is no mine. It is a _tomb_."

Throughout the hall they had just entered, giant shadows were cast over massacred skeletons, murdered long ago. Spider web hung over the bodies, casting a daunting sensation over the dead.

Gimli, who had been so absorbed in his own cheerful thoughts, turned to look around him and ran over to one of the skeletons, falling miserably to his knees. "Who did this to you, my kindred brother?"

Legolas pulled a black arrow from a skull and immediately recognized it, "Goblins!"

The elf swiftly pulled his bow and the two men by his side pulled their swords out, prepared for any sudden attacks.

"Where do we move next?" Arwen asked, backing up towards the hobbits who stood close to the entrance. "We cannot continue down this path, it is far too dangerous in these mines."

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here," Boromir said and shouted for them to get out quickly, the hobbits backed away even further. All the sudden Frodo felt his feet being pulled from under him, his heart pumped in fear within his small chest. The other hobbits shouted his name when they saw that something had taken hold of Frodo's ankle. A long tentacle from the lake.

Merry and Pippin hurried to get a hold of Frodo while Sam drew his short blade and chopped at the tentacle. The tentacle finally let go and Merry and Pippin drew Frodo back to safety. Suddenly more tentacles appeared from the lake and shot out at them, they threw Sam, Merry and Pippin out of the way before once more lifting Frodo in its grip.

Not knowing what to do Sam turned back to the others, who were still debating the dangers in the mines, "_Strider_!"

The others turned to watch the events as they heard the fear in Sam's voice.

"Frodo!" Arwen called in shock, drew her curved sword and was the first to run outside, closely followed by Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir.

Frodo was pulled higher and higher up and more tentacles appeared from the lake, trying to get a better hold of the hobbit. Soon the entire lake was roaring with tentacles and Legolas fired at them with his swift arrows. Frodo shouted in horror while Aragorn started attacking the tentacles with his sword.

As Boromir and Arwen move to attack it also as it swung Frodo back and forth in the air. A monstrous jaw suddenly appeared from the middle of the dark lake and Frodo's fear increased tenfold.

"_Do something_!" Sam hollered upon seeing the monster in the lake appear.

Arwen and Aragorn chopped off a few tentacles while Boromir managed to sever the one holding Frodo. The hobbit fell and Boromir caught him in his arms. The man then turned around and headed back to the entrance of the cave.

"Back into the mines!" Gandalf called from the doorway and everyone followed his order.

Aragorn pulled Arwen from the water and as they ran, Legolas covered them with well-aimed arrows. The creature howled in pain as the arrows burrowed deep in its skin and retreated into the lake for a moment before rising its body out of the water. With a fury, it attempted to follow the ten as they scrambled into the mines. The roof of the mine started collapsing from the beast's heavy weight and everyone stopped when they reached a safe distance.

Arwen squeezed Aragorn's hand as he stood protectively in front of her. Legolas stopped right behind them and the hobbits watched in fear as everything suddenly fell into darkness. The only sound was from everybody's labored breaths.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf's voice said slowly. He tapped his staff in the floor twice and the stone on the top of his staff suddenly illuminated, casting an eerie glow over the fellowship. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the earth. It is a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

* * *

They climbed further and further into the depths of the mines for days until finally descending down a steep staircase that led into a great hall.

Gandalf led the way into the new hall and urged his staff to shine brighter, illuminating their surroundings.

"Behold!" Gandalf said, "The great realm and dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf."

Everyone looked at the magnificent hall in awe, it was so wide that they could not see to the other side. Rows and rows of stone pillars held up the high ceiling, it was by far the greatest carved pillars any of them had ever seen.

"Well, what do you say to this, master elf?" Gimli asked Legolas, the latter ignored the question but watched the pillars in silent awe.

"Now there's an eye-opener and no mistake," Sam pointed out.

They walked forward into the hall, moving slowly since the only light came from Gandalf's staff. Suddenly Gimli laughed and took off sprinting to the right, for he had noticed a chamber. Gandalf called out his name, but the dwarf did not heed.

Reaching the chamber Gimli suddenly stopped short in front of a crypt, his smile faltered as he read the name on the stones before him. He sank down to his knees and started weeping devastatingly. The rest of the fellowship followed him and Gandalf read the inscription of the crypt out loud, "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead then, it is as I feared."

Arwen kneeled by the weeping dwarf to try and comfort him but he wailed only louder. Gandalf turned around, handed Pippin his hat and staff and then picked up a thick book from one of the skeletons. He cleaned cobweb from it and opened the dusty book, silently he flickered through the pages.

Legolas whispered to Aragorn, "We must move on, we cannot linger! The danger of the orcs are ever present in my mind, we can not stay."

"'They have taken the bridge, and the second hall'," Gandalf read aloud from the last written pages of the book, "'We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out… They are coming'…"

The others took in his words while Pippin's curiosity overtook him. He slowly reached out his hand to one of the skeletons and squeezed its bony hand. When he did, the head suddenly fell off and down a well behind it. As it tumbled further and further, its descent echoed from the well. Gandalf turned back to Pippin as the rest of the skeleton fell with the skull, drawing a chain and bucket with it. The sound of the clatter was intensified by the silence. The echo seemed to go on forever until finally the sound settled. Everything was silent. Nothing happened and everyone breathed out, they were still safe.

Gandalf shut the book, "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

He pulled his staff and hat back from the ashamed hobbit, Pippin declined his head.

And then, from the darkness a drum sounded.


	7. Durin's Bane

**7. Durin's Bane**

The sound of drums and high-pitched screeches continued and everyone turned towards the entrance of the chamber.

Frodo's sword glowed blue, which meant that orcs were incoming and the fellowship exchanged glances at this information. Boromir swiftly ran to the door. From nowhere two arrows shot out and missed his face by a mere inch.

"Get back!" Aragorn shouted to the hobbits as Gandalf pushed the halflings further into the chamber. Arwen stood from her spot next to Gimli and hurried to stand with the wizard.

"Stay close to us!" she urged the hobbits while Aragorn hurried forward to help Boromir close the doors.

"They have a cave-troll," Boromir pointed out as the two sealed the door with old, discarded axes.

Gandalf, Arwen and the hobbits pulled their swords in preparation of the battle. Legolas aimed his bow at the door as Boromir and Aragorn backed to his side. Aragorn pulled out his bow as well. Gimli leaped atop the crypt of Balin, his axe in his sturdy hands, as the orcs hacked away at the doors.

"Let them come!" he growled as the orcs made splinters of the door. "There is one dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath!"

There was little time to prepare themselves mentally for the battle as Aragorn and Legolas shot arrows at the cracks the orcs created in the door. Not long after the doors were slammed open and the orcs came swarming in, battle-ready. Aragorn swiftly hung his bow across his shoulder once more and pulled his long sword from its sheath.

The orcs wasted no time before advancing on them, screeching as they went. Gandalf shouted a battle cry and so did the hobbits as they attacked. They swung their swords left and right, dodging swords and spears as they tried to stay alive. The fellowship fought on, even though they were greatly outnumbered, for this was their only chance to live.

Arwen huffed as she cut down an orc and turned to look for the hobbits, she tried to keep close to them to protect them if needed, but they managed well on their own.

Sam was the most efficient with his sword and showed much skill with a blade. Suddenly the hobbit heard a dull sound and as he looked up, he was met by a horrendous view - a cave-troll slammed its way through the narrow doors, breaking heavy blocks of stone from the walls as it did. Legolas shot it with his arrows but it barely even flinched.

The troll first set its sight on Sam and lifted its massive mace to strike him, Sam threw himself between the troll's legs and tried to crawl to safety. However, the troll turned around and prepared to put its heavy foot on Sam.

Mid-step the troll was prevented from squishing Sam by Boromir and Aragorn who pulled on the chain that hung around the troll's neck. Their plan succeeded but the troll then turned on them instead. The two men ducked as it swung its mace at them, Aragorn swiftly let go of the chain but Boromir did not. The man soon realized his mistake, as the troll swung the chain so hard that Boromir was thrown aside, as if he weighed nothing more than one of the hobbits.

He hit the hard wall of the raised level and his head spun for a second. Boromir became disoriented and barely saw an orc raise its sword to attack him. He gulped when suddenly another blade came flying through the air, hitting the orc in its throat. As it fell dead, Boromir turned around and saw Aragorn nodding to him. Boromir nodded back and pulled Aragorn's sword from the orc's throat before standing from the ground.

Aragorn used his rangers' dagger to stab one of the orcs before Boromir managed to throw back his sword to him. The ranger caught it skilfully in one hand and swung it in a graceful arch, cutting off an orc's head as he turned.

Meanwhile Arwen found herself in the troll's path. She ducked as it swung its mace a few inches to her side. She stabbed it in the knee before rolling sideways as it once more tried to hit her. She stood from the ground just as it swung its hand at her, she was thrown aside but Gimli threw his axe at the troll before it could follow the elf and the troll turned on the dwarf instead.

Arwen moved to stand up as an orc kicked her in the face, she was thrown back and saw it raise its sword above his head, ready to strike her. It swung the sword down at her but before it could reach its intended target another sword appeared and blocked it. Aragorn stood over her and cut down the orc quickly, he pulled her to her feet and looked her over once. Satisfied she was unharmed, he turned from her to keep fighting.

Over on the side Merry and Pippin pulled Frodo out of harms way and protected him by hiding him behind a pillar on a ledge that ran alongside the walls of the chamber.

Merry looked out from behind the pillar and saw Legolas had tricked the troll into spinning its massive chain around a pillar further away. Most of the orcs were now killed and Merry told Frodo encouragingly, "It's not much longer, Frodo. You'll be safe."

Frodo did not listen for his own heartbeats were drowning out all other noise; the Ring seemed, to him, to be heavier by all the fighting. It was as if it, once more, enjoyed the sounds of dispute.

Arwen jumped out of reach from an attacking orc and Sam pushed his sword into it. Another orc pushed Sam aside and Arwen jumped to his defense. She fought the orc as it sneered at her; both of them parried each other's moves. She jumped up the steps to the ledge and ducked as Sam swung a pan at the orc. The orc was knocked out cold and Sam hit another.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Sam mused to Arwen and clubbed a third.

Pippin shouted in fear as the troll turned to him, Merry and Frodo. It hit its mace down towards them but they managed to jump aside in time. Merry and Pippin landed on one side of the mace and Frodo on the other, helplessly the two hobbits watched their friend as he hid behind a pillar.

"We must do something," Pippin whispered to Merry but Merry silenced him and pulled them further away from the troll as it briefly looked at them.

The troll then turned back to Frodo's pillar, but Frodo managed to evade it by moving around the pillar. That is, until the troll tricked Frodo in return to back the wrong way. Frodo found himself in the troll's path and was helpless as it lifted him by the foot.

In desperation Frodo called Aragorn's name, his fear was growing and he knew he had not much chance of survival if the troll got hold of him. With a will to survive Frodo managed to stab the troll's hand and it dropped him, Frodo fell from the ledge and landed on the scattered rocks below.

Aragorn fought his way closer to Frodo and as he killed an orc he took its spear and jumped into the troll's path. With a battle scream he thrust the spear into the troll and it screamed in agony before turning its rage on him. It hit Aragorn hard; he flew across the room and hit the wall hard. He fell to the ground and remained down.

"_Aragorn_!" Arwen cried out in fear.

She turned to look in Aragorn and Frodo's direction once more and saw Frodo trying to rouse Aragorn but he would not move. Seeing this Arwen lost concentration for a second, just watching and hoping the ranger would move.

As she faltered, she failed to see the orc that jumped towards her. She heard its screech and ducked its attack in the nick of time but it came at her again. The elf moved her feet back but realized she could not escape as the edge of the ledge was right behind her. The orc moved his sword at her again and she tried to avoid it but felt it against her side. The orc's sword had a hooked tip that caught onto her tunic, she gasped as the orc menacingly pulled its sword in a diagonal arch. She leaned backwards to avoid damage and felt herself falling, she heard the metallic rustle the sword produced and she fell from the ledge, hitting the hard ground below.

She looked up and the orc sneered down at her before his head suddenly was cut from his body. The dead body fell on top of her and she hurried to crawl out from beneath it. On the ledge stood Gandalf and looked at her as her hands immediately sought out the tear on her tunic. Her hauberk had saved her where the sword had graced her body and she was unharmed.

Gandalf and Arwen turned in Frodo's direction. The hobbit tried to escape but the troll thrust the spear into him, Frodo's face contorted in deep agony. Merry and Pippin were the first to react, with battle cries they courageously jumped onto the troll's back, hacking at it with their swords.

Sam called out Frodo's name and with tears glistening in his eyes started hitting the orcs more furiously with his pan. The others followed his example and fought harder than ever before. Fighting for Frodo.

The troll got a hold of Merry and held him in his grasp while trying to avoid Gimli's and Gandalf's attacks. The wizard and dwarf chopped at its legs and it let go of Merry, the latter crawled to safety. The troll huffed, and growled weakly. It managed to hit Gimli with its hand but it was beginning to tire. As it saw Legolas aim his bow it growled at the elf. Pippin stabbed the troll in the neck and as it threw back its head in pain, Legolas saw his opportunity and let his arrow soar through the air. It hit the troll's throat and after stumbling a few minutes the troll fell dead to the ground, Pippin flew over its head and landed in a heap on the floor.

With the troll dead the fellowship had slain all of the orcs and there were no more to defeat at present time.

Everyone hurried over to Frodo and Aragorn, the latter had regained consciousness and crawled over to the hobbit. He rolled the hobbit over but was startled as Frodo breathed and grunted in pain. Frodo was not dead, as had been feared.

"He's alive!" Sam breathed in relief and hurried over to his friend's side.

Frodo's breaths were rapid but he assured them he wasn't hurt.

Aragorn was still amazed. "You should have been killed. That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there is more to this hobbit, than meets the eye," Gandalf said with a smile and Frodo revealed his mithril shirt beneath his cotton one. Bilbo had given it to him in Imladris, and it had now saved his life.

"_Mithril_!" Gimli smiled, "You are full of surprises Master Baggins."

Suddenly sounds of more orcs were heard and everyone's fear returned.

"We can not stay," Arwen whispered.

"To the bridge of Khazad-Dûm!" said Gandalf.

The fellowship ran with great speed from the chamber and as they looked back they saw massive hordes of never ending orcs following them. They were appearing out of nowhere, from every possible direction. Sam suddenly lost his balance and fell to the ground, Arwen turned back to help the hobbit.

"Arwen! Sam!" Boromir called out and turned back as well, when Sam was on his feet once more they realized that their path forward was blocked, Boromir pulled Arwen with him to the right and Sam quickly followed.

Meanwhile Aragorn called to the wizard, "Gandalf! We must turn back for them!"

Gandalf kept running but looked back, he pointed his staff to the side and Aragorn turned to look as well. Boromir, Arwen and Sam where running parallel with the others, only they were a couple of pillars to the right, with orcs running in between the two groups.

The orcs kept coming and they were soon surrounded, the orcs stopped in two circles around the divided fellowship. The orcs were greatly pleased at their capture. There was surely no escaping now.

Just then a thunderous growl echoed and a fiery light appeared at the end of the hall. The orcs were obviously frightened to death and wasted no time in escaping to some safe place out of sight. Boromir, Arwen and Sam joined the others as they stared at the light; in the dark the growls were still heard. Legolas aimed his bow at the light but knew not what to fire at so he eventually lowered it.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir whispered to the wizard.

Gandalf said nothing for a moment and everyone waited in silence for his verdict. "A Balrog," the wizard said at length with revulsion.

"Durin's bane…" Gimli breathed in fear.

Gandalf nodded and continued, "A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run! Quickly!"

Boromir led the way down a staircase and as he ran to continue down the next he stopped mid-step, the stairs were gone below him. He felt himself losing balance but Legolas hurried forward to pull him back to safety. Arwen spotted a staircase to the right and pushed Gimli and the others in that direction. Aragorn turned to watch Gandalf, who was falling behind.

"Gandalf?" he asked but the wizard merely shook his head.

Aragorn put his hand on the wizard's arm and Gandalf said, "You must lead them on, Aragorn. The bridge is near."

Aragorn shook his head, he was not about to leave the wizard behind. But as he tried to help, Gandalf pushed him away and shouted, "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!"

"_Aragorn_!" Arwen shouted as she ran back up to them. The two exchanged a glance and Aragorn rushed on. The elf reached out a hand to the wizard and pulled him swiftly along with her. "Come, Frodo and the others are waiting for you!"

"Arwen..." Gandalf tugged on her sleeve and she paused for a second. "Stay strong. If you do not help protect the wishes of Frodo's heart, your own will falter..."

The elf maiden frowned but decided time was too precious to argue and they rushed after the others down the staircase.

Further down the stairs there was a large gap in between steps were the foundation had crumbled. Legolas easily leaped over it and Arwen followed. Legolas waved for the Grey wizard to be next. The wizard threw a glance behind them as large stones fell from above and another growl was heard.

"Gandalf!" Legolas encouraged and the wizard leaped over as well.

Suddenly arrows flew at them; the orcs were still in hot pursuit despite the beast also behind them. Legolas took up his bow but Arwen stopped his hand.

"Give the bow to me, help the others across!" she said and the blond elf nodded. He handed her the bow and arrows. She moved a few steps down as Aragorn on the other side of the staircase, took up his bow also. Arwen aimed an arrow and shot an orc between the eyes.

"Merry! Pippin!" Boromir shouted as he took hold of the hobbits and leaped over the gap. As he leaped a few more steps crumbled and fell into the bottomless fires below. Legolas helped steady them.

The arrows kept flying towards them but Arwen did the best she could to kill the orcs; she cast a worried glance up at Aragorn. The man took hold of Sam and threw him across into Boromir's waiting arms. As Aragorn turned to do the same for Gimli, the dwarf stubbornly held up his hand.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf!" he said and jumped across on his own. As he landed he almost lost balance but Legolas managed to grab hold of his beard.

"_Not the beard_!" Gimli cried and Legolas pulled him to safety.

More of the steps crumbled and Aragorn pushed Frodo further up the stairs and climbed up as well, they regained their balance and looked down at the others, the gap was now far to wide to jump across.

Heavy stones fell from the ceiling, a big rock landed on the staircase further up and broke off the steps Aragorn and Frodo stood on from the rest. The staircase wobbled back and forth unsteadily. Aragorn urged Frodo to lean forward and as they both did the staircase tipped forward and slammed into the staircase below. Frodo and Aragorn jumped into the steadying arms of Legolas and Boromir.

"_Yro_!" Arwen urged and the fellowship continued their descent down the steep staircase. (_Run_!)

As they reached a fiery hall Gandalf stopped and urged the others along, "Over the bridge! Fly!"

Everyone ran past him as he stopped to watch the flames, the flames ascended and from a dark shadow did the Balrog appear. The fiery demon snarled at Gandalf and took a step towards him. Gandalf turned around and followed the others as they continued running towards the bridge. Arwen slowed her speed to run next to Legolas and handed him back his bow and arrow, he smiled his gratitude and the two elves glanced back at the Balrog.

"Gimli was right!" Legolas called loudly, "They do have roaring fires in Moria!"

They reached the bridge and Aragorn led the way across, followed by Boromir and the hobbits. Then followed Gimli, Arwen and Legolas. Last ran Gandalf who stopped on the middle of the bridge.

Arwen turned back to watch the wizard but Legolas pushed her forwards. As they reached the other side they all stopped to see what was happening on the bridge.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf shouted from where he had stopped on the middle of the bridge.

"_Gandalf_!" Frodo shouted in alarm.

"I am the servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udûn!" Gandalf chanted, a white light shone from his staff and encased him. The Balrog created a blazing sword and struck down at the wizard. Gandalf parried the strike and the Balrog's sword shattered.

The rest of the fellowship waited on baited breath afraid of how this could end.

"Go back to the shadow," Gandalf snarled. The Balrog sneered at him and took a step forward brandishing a fire whip. Gandalf shouted, "_YOU…SHALL NOT...PASS_!"

The wizard struck his staff and sword down on the bridge. The Balrog stopped for a second and then ran out on the bridge, the bridge collapsed beneath it and the demon fell into endless shadows.

Everyone thought Gandalf was safe but then the fire whip lashed out once more, grabbing hold of Gandalf's ankle. The old wizard dropped his sword and staff as he desperately tried to hold on to the bridge.

Frodo began to run towards the wizard, but Boromir pulled him back with a strong arm. Frodo let out an anguished scream, he could not lose Gandalf. Not now. Not like this.

Gandalf's eyes locked with Frodo's and the wizard uttered, "Fly, you fools!"

Then he let go of the edge and fell after the Balrog into the shadows.

Time seemed to slow down for Aragorn as he watched the place where the wizard had vanished from. One of his eldest friends had just fallen to his death and left their group without a leader. Gimli urged Merry, Sam and Pippin to the exit and they hurried as the orcs on the other side raised their bows at them once more. The others in the fellowship followed their friends, except the ranger who remained in shock.

Boromir, who had lifted the unwilling Frodo in his arms, turned and shouted a desperate, "Aragorn!"

The ranger finally took heed of the situation and followed the others out the mines and onto the rocky hills outside.

Now they were only nine.


	8. Lothlórien

**8. Lothlórien**

On the rocky hills the fellowship stopped, overcome by their grief. Gandalf had just gone from the realm of the living. The wizard was dead. Their leader and friend had succumbed to a bitter faith. They wept for him, trying to come to terms with their sadness.

Gimli suddenly turned towards the entrance once more, shouting, "I'll kill Durin's bane with my bare hands!"

Boromir moved to stop the dwarf. As he held his arm around the struggling dwarf's shoulder he whispered, "He's gone, Gimli."

Gimli stopped struggling for a second and calmed down. Legolas watched them with a frown; he was unsure how to react. He had seen death before but this was different, without Gandalf to lead them, he feared they were lost.

Not far from him Merry sat, crying silently. Across his lap lay a devastated Pippin who was weeping loudly. Sam breathed heavily before sinking down onto a rock, he held his head in his hands as tears brimmed his eyes and his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Further away Arwen stood on a cliff watching as Frodo walked aimlessly away from them. Tears spilled from her own eyes as she tried to grasp the situation and her heart was weighed down with sympathy for the hobbit who seemed so very lost.

The only one able to control his emotions at present was Aragorn, who knew he had to take control and get them to re-group. Gandalf had asked him to lead them on, he would not disappoint his friend. He needed to move them somewhere safe before they could deal with recent events.

"Legolas," he called and the elf distantly turned to watch him. "Get them up."

The elf nodded, brushed away his tears and went over to Merry and Pippin to try to get them to stand.

Boromir turned from Gimli and glared at Aragorn. "Give them a moment for pity's sake!"

"We have no time to weep now. By nighttime these hills will be swarming with orcs! We must move to the safety and cover of the woods of Lothlórien."

Arwen stopped listening to his words as her breathing grew more unstable and more tears streamed down her face. She wished Gandalf had not fallen beyond her senses. They still needed him. Especially so Frodo. She watched as he continued to walk away from them. He already sought privacy from the others, it if was because he wished to be by himself or because he felt like he was now alone, Arwen did not know. Either way, the last words the wizard had spoke to her echoed in her head, but she remained clueless as to their meaning.

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned her head sideways to watch Aragorn who'd moved to stand by her side.

"Come, Arwen," he said and she nodded slowly.

Arwen could see tears glistening in his eyes as well but still he smiled down at her.

He was happy that she was safe, but just to be sure he looked her once over. His gaze stopped on her torso where he could see a long, narrow rip in her leather tunic. He moved his hand to it and heard Arwen inhale lightly. He looked into her eyes and saw both sorrow and confusion in them.

"We will be alright, Arwen. We will be safe," Aragorn promised, and added to himself, "_You_ will be safe."

His eyes once more sought out the tear in her tunic and his heart constricted painfully in his chest, he could see how close he had been to losing his beloved as well. If it had not been for the chain mail armor they would have been mourning her death as well. He cleared his clogged throat and cleared his mind from such sorrowed thoughts; he needed to keep his focus if he were to lead them away from danger.

"Where is Frodo?" he asked gently and Arwen looked straight ahead. Aragorn turned to follow her gaze and frowned as he saw the hobbit walking away from them.

"Frodo?" Aragorn called in confusion, "_Frodo_!"

The hobbit stopped and turned slowly to watch the ranger, Aragorn swiftly moved over to him as Arwen turned back to the others. She saw Legolas having trouble coaxing Merry and Pippin from the ground and made her way over to them.

She knelt before them and placed her hand first on Merry's cheek and then on Pippin's, the gesture seemed to move both hobbits from their shocked states.

"It is time to leave," she said with her soft voice but Pippin shook his head.

"I killed him, he is dead because of me," his voice trembled as he spoke.

"_No_!" said Merry and dried his tears. "This isn't your fault."

"It is, it would not have happened if I had not touched that skeleton…" Pippin's throat tightened and he could not finish his sentence. Arwen felt her own tears streak down her cheeks as she beheld the weeping hobbit.

"Meriadoc is right, Peregrin. This is not your fault. You could not have predicted this."

"Arwen is right," Gimli huffed, brushing away the last of his tears, "If anyone is to blame it is I for my insistence to go to the Mines. Gandalf did not want to come here… he must have known what dangers lay hidden there."

Arwen opened her mouth to speak when she suddenly heard a sniffle behind her, she turned and saw that Aragorn had led Frodo back to them. Arwen hurriedly reached out a hand for the hobbit, who gratefully squeezed it in return. Tears streamed down the hobbit's face as he said, "This is my fault. I am the one who decided that we would go through the mines. I carry the Ring, this is my fault."

"We must not blame ourselves," said Boromir. "If we do, we will not make it long."

"This is no one's fault," Arwen promised. She squeezed Frodo's hand a final time and then gently pulled Pippin from Merry's lap. "Gandalf knew what he was doing; he sacrificed himself to save us. So that we could go on with our quest. Let us honor his memory by moving on."

"Come," said Aragorn, "Let us grieve our fallen comrade later."

The others started moving towards the far off woods as Aragorn turned to watch the white mountain behind him with a deep sigh.

"Rest in peace, old friend," he whispered before following the others.

* * *

Arwen took the lead and with her elven speed moved ahead of the others, she longed to reach the safety of Lothlórien now. She could not wait to meet her grandparents again and hoped they would be able to restore the fellowship's hope.

"Arwen!" a voice cried behind her and she heard water splash as Aragorn ran to keep up with her. She stopped to wait for him and he soon reached her side, standing beside her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I…" he breathed and seemed to doubt something, "I just wanted to…"

"_Man_?" (_What_?)

"I nearly lost you in the mines, as well," Aragorn said with such pain that Arwen was taken aback by his passion. "It is a thought I can hardly bear..."

"But I did not die," Arwen reassured. "I know the loss of Gandalf has been hard on us all, but please... Let us talk no more of death until we have recovered from our loss."

"I want you to be safe, Arwen. I realize now that _I_ cannot keep you safe at all times..." Aragorn muttered and reached out a hand to the tear in her shirt.

Something tugged at her heartstrings and Arwen felt a familiar fear grow in her chest. The words he had uttered to her in Rivendell still felt like a fresh wound and she feared he now wished to re-open the wound.

"Your father was right,-" he began.

"_Please_..." Arwen interrupted. "Not now. The only hope I have right now of moving past my grief, is the thought of you by my side. We will talk in Lothlórien, where we will be safe. You do well to remember that the cave troll nearly robbed me of you, as well."

Their difference was not lost on Aragorn. Where he wanted her to stay away from him in order to _be_ safe, she wanted to stay close to him in order to _feel_ safe. He could only be touched by her sentiment and nodded mutely. Once more his heart was torn and confused as to what was the right path.

The two looked ahead at the beautiful greens of the forest ahead.

"Lothlórien..." Arwen breathed in relief.

"Come now!" Aragorn shouted back to the others, "We are close to safety. Make haste!"

* * *

They reached the enchanted woods shortly and the fellowship moved slowly between the ancient, mystical trees.

The woods seemed almost golden with leaves falling from the trees, and even though they were merely plants they seemed to invoke a sense of serenity and awareness in the fellowship. This made the sorrow of their loss fade to the back of their minds as they beheld the trees in wonder.

Arwen once more walked at the front for she knew these woods the best. She smiled slightly as she gently touched several on the old trees on their path. These woods held many fond memories for her as well. She glanced back at Aragorn who shared an affectionate smile with her.

"They say there's a great sorceress who lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell…" Gimli spoke and disturbed the serenity of the moment. "...and are never seen again."

Arwen laughed humorlessly and waited until he caught up to her. "Is that so, master dwarf?"

"Yes, milady," the dwarf said and looked around in fear, "As an elf, I suppose she is not much danger to you, but I will protect the hobbits from being spellbound. For here is a dwarf she won't ensnare so easily."

Arwen sighed as Gimli continued, "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

Suddenly archers appeared from nowhere pointing their elven bows at the fellowship and they all stopped in fear. From among the armored elves their blond leader stepped forward. The elf glared at the dwarf briefly before looking at all the others in the fellowship.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," the leader, Haldir, said with an impassive tone.

Gimli merely harrumphed.

* * *

Haldir and his men moved the fellowship from the open into deeper, more protected parts of the forest. Not 'til nightfall did they reach a small camp and in silence climbed up a staircase in the trees.

The other elves watched them ascend and Frodo felt like all their gazes were upon him. Earlier he had heard a strange female voice in his head, and he wondered if it belonged to one of these elves. Sam pulled Frodo's sleeve slightly and with Merry and Pippin they moved over to the side of a plateau they had reached.

Haldir turned back around to face Legolas and placed his hand on his own chest, as an elvish greeting, "_Mae Govannen, Legolas Thranduilion_." (_Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduil._)

Legolas returned the gesture and said, "_Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien_." (_Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien_.)

Haldir then turned to Aragorn, "_A, Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammen_." (_Ah, Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us_.)

Aragorn bowed his head but the entire thing was beginning to irritate Gimli.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!"

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," said Haldir, a tone of disdain to his voice.

"And do you know what this Dwarf says to that? _Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!_" Gimli growled. (_I spit upon your grave_!)

Aragorn turned around and took hold of Gimli's shoulder," That was not so courteous."

Haldir sighed and then moved to stand in front of Arwen, she met his gaze and he bowed his head to her.

"_Mae Govannen, Arwen Undómiel. Oio naa elealla alasse', Arwenamin,_" he greeted, this time speaking elvish to spite the dwarf. (_Well met, Arwen Evenstar. Ever is thy sight a joy, my lady.)_

Arwen smiled at her old friend and bowed back, "_Mae Govannen, Mellonamin_." (_Well met, my friend.)_

Haldir moved further and watched Frodo with dark eyes briefly before he addressed the fellowship, "You bring great evil with you. You can go no further."

* * *

An hour later Aragorn and Haldir were still arguing in elvish. Aragorn was desperately trying to change the elf's mind but Haldir refused.

Frodo sighed deeply and as he looked up he saw everyone cast a glance in his direction. He felt as if they had gone from blaming themselves to blaming him for the events in Moria. He sighed again, he did not need their resentment. He was already blaming himself for everything. No matter what had been spoken earlier he still blamed himself for Gandalf's tragic death. Arwen and Boromir sat next to each other and exchanged a look over Frodo's obvious sadness.

Boromir turned to watch Aragorn and Haldir and whispered to Arwen, "This is pointless. We are stuck here, when we should not be. Perhaps Aragorn's decision to come here was just as pointless as their arguing."

Arwen shook her head, "No, he made a wise decision to come here. This is the only safe place in close proximity, the orcs cannot enter here. We will be safe here... But perhaps I should help him, just so that we can move forward."

She stood from her seat and walked over to the arguing men. She gently placed her hand on the ranger's arm and he turned to look at her. Understanding her silent wish he moved back, allowing her to speak with the other elf. Aragorn moved over to Boromir's side and took the space Arwen had vacated earlier. As he lowered himself he let out a troubled sigh.

When he sat down Boromir addressed Frodo, "Gandalf's death was not in vain. Nor would he have you give up hope. You carry a heavy burden, Frodo. Do not carry the weight of the dead."

Frodo listened to his words and nodded, he then turned to Arwen and Haldir who had quieted. The two elves were looking at each other, no spoken words passed between them but still it was visible that a conversation was taking place. Haldir turned to watch Frodo and Arwen did too, she then turned back to Haldir and whatever conversation they were having continued.

"What are they doing?" Frodo whispered to Aragorn and the ranger turned to look as well.

"Telepathic conversation," Aragorn answered and the others looked at him in confusion. "They are speaking with their minds."

"_Elf magic,_" Gimli grumbled from his seat.

They watched as Haldir finally bowed his head and turned to the fellowship reluctantly, "You will follow me."

With those words he held out his arm in a gesture for the others to go with him. Arwen glanced back at Aragorn with a proud smile.

* * *

The next day they walked deeper into the woods and passed many trees and hills.

They walked pass the very heart of Lorién and Haldir insisted upon showing them the legendary mound of Cerin Amroth, as they passed it Frodo could see elanor and niphredil grow on the hill. Ahead of him he saw Aragorn and Arwen smile tenderly at each other, walking so close their hands were almost touching. Suddenly Aragorn bent down and picked up a blooming elanor. When he turned back to the elf maiden he handed her the small, bright flower. Frodo couldn't help but smile at having witnessed this tender moment.

Not until near sundown did they reach Caras Galadhon and Haldir referred to it as the heart of Elvendom on Middle Earth. The sun settled behind the mountains as the fellowship walked into the city of elves. They walked up a winding staircase, among the tallest of trees anyone of them had ever seen.

"Arwen?" Pippin whispered as he and Merry walked behind her.

"Yes, Pippin?"

"Where are we going?" he asked as he gazed about him at the breathtaking city in the trees. He had surely never seen anything like this before.

"To the grand court of Celeborn and Galadriel."

"_Oh_!" Pippin nodded. "…Who are they?"

"The Lord and Lady of Lothlórien," Aragorn explained from where he walked in front of Arwen.

"Galadriel is the Lady of Light," Arwen further explained and looked down at Frodo who walked next to her, "She is the bearer and keeper of _Nenya_, one of the three Rings given to the elves."

Frodo looked up at Arwen with curiosity. Arwen continued, "The second Ring, _Vilya_, is kept by my father, Lord Elrond."

"And the third?" Frodo asked. Arwen turned to him with sorrow on her face.

"The ring, _Narya_, was given to lord Círdan but he gave it to another. The ring is kept hidden, not much different from the one you carry," she said.

Silver lights glimmered in the darkness around them, illuminating the stairs and all the elves who watched their ascent. At last, they reached the court and the fellowship stopped in awe.

From the staircase in front of them, a warm glow shone and everyone looked up as the couple, the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien, descended the ornament steps. Everyone watched, mesmerized by these two elves. Aragorn was the only one who cast his eyes downwards in a bow.

The couple stopped on one of the steps before the fellowship and after a moment Celeborn spoke, "The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine are here, yet ten set out from Rivendell. Tell me where is Gandalf? I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

Aragorn lifted his eyes and met the Lady's eyes, Galadriel read his mind in sadness and spoke, "Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land... He has fallen into Shadow."

The couple's shock was clear as Legolas hurried to explain what had happened in the mines.

Galadriel's eyes searched for Arwen's and the two watched each other, as the Lady of Light replied to Legolas, Arwen heard Galadriel's voice inside her head.

'_Creoso, Arwen. Amin dele ten' lle_.' (_Welcome, Arwen. I am worried about you_.)

Arwen frowned up at her grandmother in confusion but Galadriel's eyes traveled to gaze down at the dwarf.

"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands love is now mingled with grief."

She turned to Boromir and watched him, but he could not bear to meet her eyes for long.

"What now becomes of this fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost," Celeborn mused sadly.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all," said Galadriel and watched them. Everyone felt their hearts fall within their chests, they all knew they had little faith to survive on now. Galadriel smiled down at Sam, "Yet hope remains while company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace in the realms of Lothlórien."

She turned to Frodo and spoke trough her mind with him, he watched her in silent wonder as he listened to her words.

A few seconds later Galadriel turned her gaze from him and descended the last steps and stood before them.

"You may remain here for as long as is necessary to reclaim your strength. We will help you on your quest by any means we can. Cloaks and food will be given to those who accept it, " Galadriel stood before Arwen. She reached up her hand to the diagonal rip in the elf maiden's tunic. "New clothes for those who need it..."

Arwen smiled and bowed her head. Galadriel lifted Arwen's chin and smiled down at her. "It's been too long, my Arwen."

Arwen smiled and nodded, "I am here now, Grandmother."

From over on the side she heard Gimli's gasp but he quickly covered it behind a sudden cough.

"Haldir will show you where you shall rest tonight," Galadriel said and Haldir bowed his head to the Lady. Haldir walked away, down the white steps, and the fellowship followed, Arwen moved to follow as well but Galadriel placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to stop her.

The others watched her curiously as they followed the elf. Arwen's eyes locked with Aragorn's for a second. He bowed his head before he too descended the stairs.

Arwen turned back to her grandparents as Celeborn came to stand next to his grandchild.

"I will not lie to you, my Arwen. When we found out you had set off with the Fellowship of the One Ring, we were both surprised by your decision," Celeborn said and placed his hand on Arwen's other shoulder. "I am still uncertain of the reason behind it."

"You did it for him," said Galadriel, it was more a statement than a question. "For your Estel."

"Yes, I did it for us," Arwen nodded. "But also for myself."

"You must be careful, little one," Galadriel said. "There is much evil after you now."

"I can take care of myself," Arwen said with a slight frown.

"Do not frown, child," said Celeborn and smiled down at her. "We know of your skills in battle, but we still worry for your safety."

"The Darkness grows closer, Arwen, even to our hidden realms. It is fiercer than you have comprehended, than any of us thought. Your father has felt it too," said Galadriel. "You still have a chance to turn back and go to the Undying Lands."

Arwen shook her head slowly, "I will not leave Estel for as long as there is a breath in my body."

"You will not remain by Aragorn's side, Undómiel. The two of you will be separated, only time may tell if you will find your way back to each other before the end," Galadriel spoke.

Arwen's eyes widened and she managed a breathless, "What have you foreseen?"

There was sadness in her grandmother's eyes but the Lady of Light spoke no words.

"Arwen," her grandfather said and changed the topic. "You know Aragorn better than any of us, will he step up to his fate? Will he reclaim the throne of Gondor and take what is rightfully his?"

Arwen shrugged, "He has never much wanted it, but I think he has always known that someday he will stop escaping from his path. Maybe he does not realize it yet, but coming on this quest was a step in the right direction. Gandalf's death had an impact on him, he is stepping up as a leader for our group now. However, I can not see the future."

"The future is for us to see and for you to live," Galadriel said softly and smiled at Arwen. "Now come, child. Let us find you new clothes."

Arwen hesitated, she wanted to know more of what was to come. But her grandparents offered no more and Arwen sighed in defeat. Whatever was to come she would just have to wait it out. With a slight smile she followed her grandparents up the white steps.


	9. Love and Loss

**9. Love and Loss**

Later that evening Arwen moved down the majestic staircase of the trees. She had spent the past few hours with her grandparents and they had talked of many things and she had been given a new travel outfit.

For the night in question, however, she was wearing a long pale, elven dress, which billowed around her as she walked. It had golden decorations by the neckline and along the trim of the long sleeves. The travel outfit for another day, she carried in a leather sack by her side. Her dark hair was out of its braid and flowed gracefully around her shoulders.

She inhaled contently and smiled faintly as a light breeze blew by. Arwen realized with a sigh how much she had missed the realms of the elves. Lórien was a second home to her and she had spent a great deal of time here during her long life span. Here in Lothlórien she had a chance to finally breathe, the fellowship's travels had stretched out over many a night and day and Arwen was unaccustomed to such travel. But she was not one to whine about it, this had been her decision and she had known about all the dangers from the start.

Still, she figured, she had been naïve to think that they all would survive the entire way to Mordor and back again. She repressed her saddened thoughts for Gandalf, he would not have liked for her or anyone else to be overcome by the grief of his sudden death.

Despite her best attempts, however, the very thought of death refused to leave the dark recesses of Arwen's mind. Her grandmother's words still echoed in her head and refused to leave her at peace. _You will not remain by Aragorn's side. The two of you will be separated..._

Arwen let out a breath and decided to let go of her troubles for one night and just enjoy life. She stepped down from the last steps onto the grass and smiled as it graced her bare toes, another simple thing of life she had missed.

Her keen elven ears picked up the sound of a silent discussion between Aragorn and Boromir; she heard the word 'Gondor' and could hear the reassuring tone in Boromir's voice. She wondered if the man wished for Aragorn to be king, just as everyone else wanted. Aragorn said not much but she could feel his indecisiveness and hesitation.

Carefree she started humming along with the elvish tune that played in the glimmering wooden realm, the voices sang of Gandalf and his many voyages and great bravery and she smiled at the memory of her friend. The others heard her humming and turned to look at her; it seemed to them like she was shining like a radiant star in the softest of lights. They felt their hearts lift by the mere sight of her and the hobbits realized that it was a form of elven magic. Merry and Pippin smiled at her as she placed her sack down next to them.

"Good evening, my lady," said Merry and Arwen returned the greeting. It pleased her to see her friends' faces carefree and rid of sorrow.

"My lady," Sam breathed and she turned to him, her silver eyes seemed to draw him into a comforting place and he found himself at a loss for words. She smiled serenely back at him and sat down gracefully on a root next to Pippin. Legolas, who stood silently to the side, smiled at her and she could feel his pain had not entirely evaporated yet. He too was listening to the elven songs and sighed serenely into the cool, eastern wind.

Gimli, who had been lightly snoring, suddenly woke. Upon seeing Arwen his eyes widened, and he sat upright in his bed. With a huff the dwarf stood up and walked closer to the others. As he did everyone could sense embarrassment in his movements, as if he was an overgrown child come to apologize for some mischief.

"Milady," he grumbled and coughed lightly, "I hope you did not take any offence by my words earlier?"

Arwen frowned, "What words do you speak of, Gimli?"

"The words I spoke of your grandmother, I should not have called her an Elf Witch," Gimli cleared his throat.

Arwen sensed the dwarf's uneasiness and suppressed a heartfelt laughter, "You are allowed to think whatever you wish, master dwarf."

"Well," Gimli said and then mumbled, "I might have been _slightly_ out of line…"

"It matters not to me, Gimli," Arwen said.

"Our friend wonders if you have said anything to the lady Galadriel about it…" Legolas pointed out and the pain in his eyes seemed replaced with a teasing glint.

Arwen smiled. "I have not. And I do not intend to."

"What did you talk of for so long?" Pippin asked, curious to know.

Arwen looked down at the hobbit beside her. In truth, they had talked long about Gandalf and their quest and now she had not the heart to inform the hobbit of this in case it would bring back his sadness, "We are family, there is always much to discuss. Nothing worth repeating, though."

Pippin smiled up at her, but in his eyes was knowledge of the truth she was not saying aloud.

The others seemed to accept her words and in an attempt to avoid ending the conversation in an outdrawn silence, Merry threw his arm around Sam's neck and asked, "Did you hear Sam's verse of Gandalf's fireworks, milady?"

Arwen shook her head and turned to watch Sam. He sighed and smiled impishly, "My words did him no justice."

He recited them nonetheless and as he did Boromir and Aragorn walked over to join the others, Arwen saw that Aragorn had removed his duster to show the grey tunic he always wore beneath the brown, leather jerkin. Even though there was a heavy sadness over him he also seemed to be at home here, he seemed calm and collected. She smiled at him and he nodded back. Boromir smiled as well; there was a twinkle in his eyes as he looked upon the elven maiden.

Sam finished his verse and smiled sheepishly as the others nodded at him reassuringly.

"It is not bad, Sam," Aragorn promised and the hobbit smiled over at the ranger.

Boromir turned back to watch Arwen, he breathed, "Your beauty outshines the very radiance of stars, my lady,"

"Thank you, Boromir," Arwen smiled as Aragorn cast an amused glance in Boromir's direction.

"So," Legolas started as he stood by Gimli's side, "does anyone wish to journey peacefully into the realms of sleep?"

Merry and Pippin shrugged while Sam shook his head distantly. Sam turned to Frodo who was sitting in the shadows of the trees further away, his eyes far off in the distance.

"What of you, mister Frodo?" Sam asked gently. "Are you tired?"

Frodo turned to look at his dearest friend and shook his head mournfully, "No, Sam. I'm not tired."

Samwise nodded and knew not what to say next. The others cast a glance in the Ring bearer's direction as well and when they turned back to each other, it turned out no one knew what to say. Boromir opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly again.

"I miss him," Pippin finally admitted in a whisper with his eyes downcast.

"We all do," said Merry.

"He was a great man," said Boromir. "Or wizard, depending on how you look at it. I did not know him very well, but he did lead us this far. It takes a brave man for that."

"But who will lead us now?" asked Sam. "You heard Lord Celeborn; he said we were doomed now that Gandalf is dead."

"We still have a leader," said Legolas and cast a glance in Aragorn's direction.

The ranger saw the look and sighed. "Gandalf did ask me to lead you on, but I know not if it was the best of Gandalf's decisions."

"Gandalf would not have suggested it if it wasn't the right choice to make," said Sam. "I didn't know him as well as mister Frodo or yourself, Strider. Nevertheless, I do not doubt his decision, you will lead us and you will do it with any and every force you can muster."

Aragorn bowed his head, grateful for the hobbit's trust in him. In silence, however he still had his own hesitations. His eyes locked with Arwen's and he knew she understood all of it. She smiled reassuringly up at him before turning back to Pippin, who broke the silence that had once more come,

"I don't think I'm ever going to sleep," the hobbit confessed.

Arwen placed a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Would you like to see more of Lothlórien, or what little I can show you this evening? We are welcome to stay for as long as we wish so there will be other times to show you more of this beautiful land, but perhaps a short stroll can help ease your mind? Would any of you, master hobbits, like to accompany me?"

Merry and Pippin nodded but Sam politely declined. Arwen turned to Frodo, his eyes were still distant. His heart was heavy with sorrow and he barely heard her as she asked, "Frodo? Would you care for a walk as well?"

Distantly he shook his head and the others watched him mournfully, they wished they could help Frodo with his pain but knew they could not until he let them in.

Together with Merry and Pippin, Arwen thus walked off further into the woods to show them more of the wooden realm.

* * *

Aragorn's blue eyes followed her figure as she went. He turned to Boromir, who stood beside him, and saw the distant smile on his lips. Aragorn shook his head and smiled as well, he could evidently see Boromir had taken a liking to Arwen and the knowledge that her heart already belonged to him made Aragorn's heart soar.

"Aye," said Sam suddenly. "The beauty lies within her family, that is for sure."

"Yes," Gimli nodded shortly, but offered no further explanation as he seated himself on his bed among the roots.

"Her eyes are as radiant as her grandmother's," Boromir mused.

Sam sat down on a root, his eyes suddenly clouded with memories.

"What is it, Sam?" Aragorn asked.

"I miss her," the hobbit said slowly.

Aragorn frowned, "Of whom do you speak?"

"Rosie Cotton. A hobbit lady in the Shire," Sam sighed and Aragorn recognized the sigh. It was the sigh of honest love separated over a great distance and time. "I just miss her."

Aragorn chuckled softly.

"Do you laugh at young love, Aragorn?" Boromir asked with a confused frown.

"Nay," Aragorn shook his head, "I laugh with it. Hold on to the memory of your lady, master Gamgee. It will help you in dark times ahead."

"You seem to know a lot of love, Aragorn," Gimli said mischievously.

"Oh, come now," Boromir smiled and threw his arm over Aragorn's shoulders. "There is no one who holds the heart of this ranger, is there?"

Aragorn bowed his head and walked over to sit next to Sam.

"There is?" Sam asked as he noticed the hidden smile at the corner of the ranger's lips.

Aragorn exchanged a look with Legolas, who smirked widely at his friend. Legolas was the only other in the fellowship that now knew the truth of his and Arwen's relationship. Gandalf, of course, had known as well but since his passing he could no longer be counted as one of the knowing.

"There is a lady," Aragorn confessed secretively.

"Who?" Boromir asked, curious to know.

Aragorn smiled cunningly and lit his pipe; he smoked it and sat silent. The others waited for him to speak but he was enjoying this far too much.

"Come now, Aragorn. You must tell us who it is; you have awoken curiosity in us all," Gimli growled, his voice a mix of irritation and amusement.

"It is the Lady Undómiel," Frodo said suddenly. Aragorn turned around to watch the young hobbit, surprised that he knew. "Is it not?"

"Arwen?" Boromir asked in disbelief.

Aragorn smiled at Frodo, who managed a weak but true smile in return. Aragorn then turned back to Boromir and nodded.

Gimli let out a heartfelt laughter, "You devil! I cannot believe you managed to keep such a fine secret from the rest of us for this long!"

"I must congratulate you," Boromir said. "To have such a beautiful woman's love is an honor many dare not even dream of."

Aragorn smiled and nodded his head affirmatively.

* * *

Arwen, Merry and Pippin returned later in the night. Arwen helped the tired hobbits, who were practically sleepwalking, into their beds and tucked them in like a protective mother. She had to admit she had grown rather fond of the four little ones and promised herself she would do whatever she could to always keep them safe.

As Pippin and Merry drifted off into sleep, Arwen stood up as to not disturb their well-deserved peace. She looked around at the others and noticed they were all sleeping, too. She turned around and let her eyes search for Aragorn's bed, with a smile on her lips she wandered over to him. He was not asleep, she could sense it.

An impulse hit her and she kneeled down in the grass. She leaned down and gently pressed her lips against his. As she brought her head back a few inches, she heard his tired, raspy voice whisper, "This is a dream."

"Then it is a good dream," she whispered back and kissed him once more.

As she pulled back he opened his eyes and looked up at her, he gently cupped her cheeks and moved her down for another kiss. As they parted, Aragorn slowly stood from the ground. He pulled her up with him and kept hold of her hand.

"Walk with me," Aragorn offered and she happily accepted. The two walked off together, neither noticing Frodo's absence from the group.

It was late in the night as they walked in the silent city. Between the crowns of the trees the stars shone bright and a pale moon lingered overhead. Aragorn stopped on a carved bridge, in the form of a giant leaf, to look out at the realm and Arwen stood beside him. She felt something weighing him down, something besides the death of Gandalf. She silently waited for him to speak.

"Arwen... What if I am not the great king everyone believes I will become?" he whispered.

Arwen had anticipated this question sooner or later for she knew it was not foreign to him, she knew he had asked himself that question many times in the past.

"Most of my life I have been 'Strider'," he continued while his eyes flew across the lands below without really seeing. "I've hid from Sauron for so long now that I fear I have missed my chance at the throne."

"Do you want the throne?" Arwen asked.

Aragorn breathed deeply, "I… never used to. But now, after everything we have been through… I feel something has changed. _I_ am changed. I do not know if I want it, but the thought is not so distant from me now."

Arwen gently took hold of his hand and he raised it to his lips and tenderly kissed her slender fingers.

"Aragorn… _Estel_, it is your destiny," she reassured even as she felt the hesitation return to his mind. "You must not falter now. You have come a long way already. I have no doubt for you... For us. If nothing else helps, you may always rely on that."

Aragorn turned to her and lifted his arm to rest it across her back as he moved closer to her. With a sigh he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I wish the future wasn't clouded for me, I wish I knew what decision I will one day make," he whispered.

"Aragorn, you already know the choice you will make," Arwen lifted her hand to rest it over his heart. "In here you have already made it."

"Arwen…" he breathed and turned to her, the look in her silvery eyes made him stop. She smiled at him briefly before she leaned up and gently pressed her lips to his.

She pulled back and whispered, "You worry too much."

"Perhaps it is you who worry not enough," he whispered, his tone completely different from the anxious one it had been a second before.

"I worry plenty," Arwen whispered. "Most of all I worry about you."

"What for, my lady? Why do you worry about me?" Aragorn asked with a teasing smile.

"All those years you spent as a free ranger I worried you would not return to me, so I looked over you in thought. Now that we are together on this quest, I fear even more… This journey is testing my mind, Aragorn, but not my heart. I worry about you because I love you. _Amin mela lle. _I just fear that if we are to part now I will succumb to worry."

Aragorn frowned, "I do not understand..."

"I know your heart, Aragorn," Arwen said and gazed deep into his blue eyes. "You share my father's concern... and I am beginning to think I do, too."

"You mean our concern for your safety? Arwen... I will not lie. I would feel no greater relief than if you decided to stay somewhere safe until this is all over. No one can guarantee your safety as long as you remain with the fellowship, and... it is driving me slowly mad. You say you worried for me when I was away as a ranger... The truth is I never worried for you those times, because I knew you were always safe in elven realms and waiting for me. It kept me going during dark times. I have no such security anymore. You are here with me, facing the same dangers I am... and I am frightened."

"Then you do wish I left...?"

Aragorn stepped away from her and leaned heavily against the balustrade. Heavy thoughts clouded his mind as he struggled to get them in order. "I do not know what I want. It is all in turmoil, Ündómiel. I do want you by my side... but not until the dangers have passed. And I cannot guarantee I will become what you want me to. The life you deserve might never exist... The only way you will be guaranteed safety and happiness is in the Undying Lands."

Arwen let out a breath after her beloved's lengthy speech and closed her eyes tight. The wound he had inflicted upon her heart in Rivendell threatened to re-open. At the same time, however, she felt she understood him completely now. Aragorn was right. There was still so much that remained unwritten about their futures.

"I find I do not know what to say," Arwen breathed in sadness.

"_Mela en' coiamin_," Aragorn said and took her hands in his and waited until she met his gaze once more. "Everything I've done... has been for you. And everything I might do, will also be for you. I do not want to hurt you anymore..." (_Love of my life)_

"What if the choice was not yours to make?" Arwen's voice was void of emotion as she searched his eyes for answers unknown. "Galadriel spoke to me... she said we would be parted soon."

Aragorn felt his heart stop beating within his chest. "For what reason?"

Arwen shrugged and stepped closer until his arms enveloped her in a comforting hug. "She would not say... She could not even say if we would be reunited before the end. She gave me the sense, though, that our parting will be much filled with pain."

The ranger held his elf woman closer to his chest as new, conflicting thoughts ran through his mind. His mind rebelled in fear over these recent news and he felt more lost than ever before. Was there nothing they could do to alter the course of this future Galadriel had seen? What did it all mean?

"I do not believe our paths are written beforehand," Aragorn managed eventually. "But I do trust your keen senses will be true if we are parted according to your grandmother's vision. Therefor, perhaps it is best we try and weather this coming storm together. If we stay together, and thus break Galadriel's vision, we could remain together until the end."

"Estel, she said-"

"And I say we change it," Aragorn's tone of voice was firm but kind. "If the choice is to be parted from you and not be certain of the outcome, perhaps staying together is most wise."

Arwen shook her head and lowered her gaze. "I told you, it will not be your choice... But perhaps there is another option on the horizon which will give us both peace of mind. Perhaps we can part and still minimize the dangers to both of us."

"How?"

The woman shrugged with a sigh. "I don't know... Do you promise to stay with me until a solution presents itself?"

"I will not fail you, gentle maiden. You have my word and my heart," She saw the power of sheer will in his eyes as he frowned in determination. She trusted him with their lives of course. If anyone could keep them together, it was he.

She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. He took her hand in his and rested it over his heart as he looked deep into her eyes and leaned down to capture her lips in a loving kiss. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her with more intensity, as if doing so would guarantee their success. It was an embrace he never wanted to escape from.

Both of them knew these days in Lothlórien could be their last moments of peace before they were to continue on their dangerous mission. They stood closely entwined for a long time 'til finally their lips parted. They smiled at each other and Aragorn leaned his forehead against hers once more.

Arwen wished that the danger was not approaching them, she wished it was not hunting them down like animals. Whatever was to come would be dangerous, but she knew she could make it as long as she stayed with Aragorn.

"_Amin mela lle,_" she whispered once more and he kissed her forehead tenderly.

As they parted, he embraced her tighter still and they stood so as Aragorn softly began to sing to her;

"_O môr henion i dhû:  
Ely siriar, êl síla.  
Ai! Aníron Undómiel.  
Tiro! Êl eria e môr.  
I 'lîr en êl luitha 'úren.  
Ai! Aníron…"  
_

_('From darkness I understand the night:  
dreams flow, a star shines.  
Ah! I desire Evenstar.  
Look! A star rises out of the darkness.  
The song of the star enchants my heart.  
Ah! I desire..._')


	10. Farewell to Lothlórien

**10. Farewell to Lothlórien**

"Boromir!" Aragorn called as the other man rose from his bed among the trees.

The Gondorian turned around as he rubbed the last remains of sleep from his tired eyes. The sun shimmered over the elven realm and cast a warm light over the ranger who stood further away. Aragorn walked closer to him with a smile on his face and his grey tunic swayed in a gentle morning breeze. He placed a friendly hand on Boromir's shoulder and the Gondorian looked down at it in confusion. He couldn't help but wonder what had brought the man into such a good mood this morning.

"The other night you and I talked," Aragorn began and waited 'til Boromir's tired eyes looked at his. "You talked of the White City and asked me to one day go there with you. My reply was far from affirmative last night."

"Yes," Boromir nodded and yawned into his palm before continuing, "I remember. You said you would not set foot in my city if you could avoid it..."

"I have other news for you this morning, son of Gondor," Aragorn smiled yet again. He paused a second to ponder over his decision in his head and then nodded. For some reason, the words that followed felt right to his mind, "I will ride into Minas Tirith with you one day."

Boromir felt his tired feelings evaporate into the air as his mind was instead filled with new amazement. He laughed and brotherly placed his own hand on top of the ranger's shoulder. "That pleases me greatly to hear, Aragorn. You will be most welcome. Nevertheless, I cannot help to wonder what it was that made you change your mind?"

Aragorn merely smiled and nodded his head cryptically before turning around. In truth, the ranger had been up most of the night thinking about it. He and Arwen had talked long about their own future as well as the choice that lay before the ranger. The elf's wisdom had helped shine some light upon his worries, but a decision was still far away on the horizon. Even after they had parted ways, Aragorn had pondered what lay ahead. Words spoken by both Elrond and Gandalf had replayed in his head and at last the ranger had decided to at least enter the White City of his forefathers.

Aragorn now walked over to the branch he had leaned against before, picked up his sword from the ground and started sharpening it. Boromir watched the ranger with a mixture of disbelief and amusement upon realizing that no answers would be forthcoming.

"You conceal many secrets, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. The ranger I first deemed you as is emerging as a promising leader," The Gondorian said and the ranger glanced up at him. "Who knows, perhaps one day you will even take the throne."

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves," Aragorn said with a pointed glare. "First, we must finish our quest and destroy the One Ring. _Then_ we shall see what the future holds for any of us."

"Your words are wise," Boromir nodded. "Irregardless of the reasons behind your choice, I feel in my heart it is the right one for us both. I cannot wait to introduce my younger brother, Faramir, to you. I am sure you will get along better than you and I have."

"I will be honored to one day meet him."

Boromir smiled and looked around. He suddenly realized that the two men were all alone in the fellowship's small clearing between the trees. "Did I wake up late?"

Aragorn shook his head as he checked to see if his sword was sharpened enough. "It is still early. Legolas walked off in the first rays of morning, accompanied by Gimli."

"Gimli?" Boromir asked. "I did not know the two of them had formed a friendship, other than their bickering."

"Neither did I, though I had my suspicions," said Aragorn. "Arwen took the hobbits for a stroll not long before you woke up. They should be back by midday."

"And what do we do until that time?" Boromir asked. "Is there anything to be done before then?"

"You may do what you wish," Aragorn said. "I must speak to the elves later to ask them a favor, but that can wait. For now, let us simply enjoy the good company of friendship and the peace of our hosts. Come, tell me more of your family. Tell me about your father, the steward of Gondor."

"Ah..." Boromir hesitated as he sat down on ground and leaned his back against a tree. "He is a stubborn, proud man who takes the responsibilities of being the steward seriously. I think I can guarantee he will not like your presence in Minas Tirith..."

* * *

A few hours later when the sun was high in the sky, the men's carefree conversation was interrupted as they heard voices approach. The turned as the four hobbits merrily walked back into their small camp.

Merry was laughing at his own joke, as was Pippin, and neither seemed able to control their joy. When finally their laughter subsided, they were able to greet both men properly.

"You seem merry this day," Boromir pointed out and couldn't help his own smile as he saw the four, small faces shining bright with joy before him.

"It is this land, I swear. It has brought me great peace," said Merry. "... And the elves offered us a drink I have never tasted until this day. It tasted of cinnamon and honey-"

"-And a little bit of happiness," Pippin added.

"Yes," Sam agreed as he sat down next to the Gondorian and sniggered. "I think it is the drink which has caused our merriment. The grief of Gandalf is still existent in the back of my mind, but I feel an ease about today. I think the drink offered us just what we needed, even if its effects wear off shortly."

"And you, Frodo?" asked Aragorn as he saw the forth hobbit gaze at the others with a small smile almost hidden on his lips.

The young hobbit looked over at the ranger and nodded as his smile grew wider. "I too feel merry on this day. It is a new day... filled with new hope."

"I am glad to hear it. Tell me, where is Arwen? I hope you did not run away from her," Aragorn asked and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Sam shook his head. "Nay. Galadriel arrived and the two of them walked off to talk of things between private eyes."

Aragorn nodded and seemed to let go of the subject as the hobbits sat themselves on the ground and started retelling all the things they had seen. Less than an hour later Gimli and Legolas returned, walking side by side as friends. They joined the others and sat down with the group to share their own morning with them.

"When I joined this fellowship... I didn't quite know what to expect," Merry admitted suddenly as he felt the effects of the drink start to wear off and reality crept back into his thoughts. The others turned to him in surprise. It was not often the hobbit took such a serious tone. "I am still not sure what to expect. But at least in retrospect... I am rather amazed at what we have seen so far. Caradhras, Rivendell... Moria - which would have been grand if one could have overlooked the orcs, Gimli - and now, Lothlórien."

"Yes," Sam nodded in agreement. "It's a far cry from the Shire surely... I always knew the world was big, but I don't think I ever appreciated just how big."

"As for our adventures..." Pippin said and glanced from Sam to Merry. "I agree with you both. And I do believe the worst is behind us. Or, at least, I hope it is..."

Legolas placed a comforting hand on the hobbit's small shoulder. "Hold on that hope, Peregrin, and never lose it."

"Aye, if I must admit to one thing," Gimli began and looked between the four small ones, "it would be my respect for the four of you so far. None of you are warriors or even travelers of the world. But you have all done well, both with a sword and keeping your spirits high... You have exceeded all my expectations."

"Same goes for you, Gimli," Pippin smiled back.

Gimli threw the hobbit a suspicious look. "What's that supposed to mean? Did you have low regards for a dwarf?"

"Settle down, Gimli," Aragorn spoke out and the dwarf nodded reluctantly. "As far as compliments go, I think they are better saved for the end of our journey. For many trials still lay ahead for us all. I do not wish to tamper anyone's good mood, but the fact remains that we have yet to complete our demanding task."

"Which brings me to the question..." Gimli started and turned his full attention to the fellowship's new leader, "Where does our road take us after we leave the safe woods of Lothlórien?"

All the others turned to Aragorn who grimaced and shrugged. "I will discuss it with Celeborn later. He will know the safest road for us. We have a lot of ground to cover and the faster we can do it, the better."

After those words were said, the leaves rustled behind Aragorn and everyone turned to see Arwen walking into the clearing to join the others. This morning she wore a simple, silver dress that matched her eyes and there were gleaming gems in her hair.

"We thought we wouldn't see you until tomorrow," Merry said with a grin.

She smiled at them but kept silent as she approached. In her right hand they all saw a dark-blue cloth which she held out to Aragorn as she kneeled in the grass next to him. Her ethereal smile widened as he raised his eyebrows at her in confusion. The others looked on with curious eyes as she silently urged the ranger to take the cloth from her waiting hands.

With a wondering frown, Aragorn took it from her grasp and slowly opened the folds. Inside the cloth, a green stone was enveloped. The green jewel shimmered atop a silver brooch in the form of a mighty eagle and Aragorn gazed down at it in wonder.

"Galadriel gave that stone to my mother and she in turn gave it to me long ago," Arwen explained gently. "I left it here on my last visit because I hoped my grandmother would pass it on to you if the need should ever present itself. I desire you wear it, to find the hope you are meant to bring."

Aragorn smiled at Arwen and gently stroked her cheek before tucking the piece of fabric safely inside his belt. "Thank you."

The lady turned to face the others, "Lady Galadriel has invited us to see her and Lord Celeborn this evening."

The others nodded and smiled wide and it was more than one smile given over the tender moment and thoughtful gift given. Legolas at last bowed his head, "We shall be honored to be received by the Lord and Lady of Light once more."

Aragorn took hold of Arwen hand and kissed the back of it before he jumped from the ground. "I bid thee farewell, gentle maid. I take my leave of all of you and will return tonight."

As the ranger walked off, Pippin turned his confused eyes to look at the elf maiden and asked, "Where is he going now?"

Arwen could merely shrug as she herself was unsure of the answer. "I do not know."

"I believe he is going to ask a favor of the elves. He mentioned something of it this morning," Boromir explained. All eyes turned to him, and he shrugged. "That is all I know."

"Tell me, Arwen..." Merry said then. "Do you have any more of that drink we tasted earlier?"

* * *

The fellowship did not see Aragorn for many hours, indeed the sun was setting when he finally returned and told the others the time had come for their meeting. Together, the nine moved up the winding stairs to the illuminated court they had seen the day before.

The Lord and Lady of Light were already there waiting for them. The fair-haired lord wasted no time as he bowed his head to welcome them and then spoke, "The time has come for those who wish to journey forth on your quest. When you set out from Rivendell you were told you could stop at any time, and that promise still holds. If no one wishes to journey further then you may remain in our lands or return home."

Galadriel looked at them all and her eyes rested on her granddaughter a second longer before she turned her gaze to Frodo. The young hobbit smiled up at her and bowed his head, the talk they had shared in the night still echoed in his head. With a slight smile Galadriel turned back to her husband. "They have all decided to continue on their quest. None shall remain behind."

"Then I must inform you that the enemy is moving fast across the lands," Celeborn continued, his words a clear warning to them all. "Danger will only increase as you come closer to your goal. Indeed, you will find no safe shelter between here and Mordor."

Pippin glanced up at Legolas by his side and whispered, "So much for keeping my hope up..."

Celeborn turned to Boromir and said, "I am sorry to be the bringer of ill news, Boromir, son of Denethor. Reports have reached us that the city of Osgiliath has fallen to ruins at the hands of the orcs, a small amount of your soldiers remain to defend it but they have little hope."

"_Faramir_…" Boromir breathed as panic spread through his entire being. "When I left we had just managed to push back those blasted creatures. This is sad news, indeed. I am sorry to hear my brother could not hold them back." The Gondorian turned to face his leader and friend. "Aragorn... by any and all means that I am capable, I must help my brother. If you will grant me, I will follow you to the borders of Gondor, but then I must turn to Gondor, not Mordor, to help my people from the abyss. I cannot let my brother fail..."

Aragorn clasped the man's shoulder in reassurance and nodded. "Of course, Boromir. You must do what is right by your heart."

"Let it be known," Celeborn began and exchanged a look with his wife, "you do not have to go alone, son of Gondor. If anyone else in your fellowship wish it, they may also fight back the evils in Gondor instead of entering Mordor. I sense in some of you an uncertain emotion about more than one obligation. I know this is a new option and a difficult choice. It must not be made today. But whatever path you choose to travel, do not falter from it now."

Aragorn stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, but the elf lord beat him to it. "I know the question on your mind, Aragorn. The safest and swiftest road for you now is by the river. Three boats shall be prepared for your departure tomorrow, if you will accept it."

The ranger felt some needed relief enter his mind and bowed his head. "_Hannon le, _Celeborn_._ It will be most appreciated." (_Thank you)_

Galadriel then spoke with her calm voice, "Now, return to your beds, for the hour is late. Tomorrow we shall say farewell, but not tonight." A small smile played at the corner of her lips as her eyes turned to Aragorn. "And who knows, perhaps your chosen path is already laid before your feet..."

* * *

With the dawn of the new day, the fears and anxieties which had haunted the fellowship before returned. It was not helped by the fact that all their belongings had vanished from their small clearing when they awoke in the morning. As they searched for them, Haldir appeared.

The elf bowed to them and managed a slight smile. "I have come to guide you to the river and your boats. Do not be worried, your belongings have already been moved to the boats."

The fellowship followed Haldir as he led them out of the city and further into the woods, about an hour later they reached the mighty river among the autumn colored leaves. In the river by the bank, three lone boats lay anchored and elves were loading the fellowship's belongings and some elvish food into the ships. Haldir led them to a clearing near by where Galadriel and Celeborn waited.

"Before you depart, we have a few gifts for you," the Lady spoke and stepped aside so that nine elves could step forward with large, green cloaks. The elves hung the cloaks over the members of the fellowship's shoulders. The fabric was surprisingly light and shifted to whatever color of the background it was held in front of.

Galadriel then stepped forward once again, "Now I have one personal gift to each of you."

She first stepped in front of Boromir and handed him a gilded belt, "Let this belt hold a heroic sword of Gondor, and do not forget the light it shall give you in your darkest days."

Then she moved to Merry and Pippin and handed them each a silvery belt, and a warning, "Let these belts contain your small swords, for as long as your swords are returned safely to these belts you will not lose them. Be sure to keep your swords at close hands, Meriadoc and Peregrin, and remember that strength will come from your own hope."

Then she moved to Legolas and gave him a bow of finest elven design, "Your aim is the most excellent, Legolas, son of Thranduil. With this bow you will not miss your intended target."

He bowed his head in awe and Galadriel then walked over to Gimli and asked him what she could give him. The dwarf hesitated but then leaned in close to whisper his request to her. She smiled down at him before nodding, she moved her hand and cut off three strands of hair from her head and gave them to him.

"Do not forget the kindness of others," she said to the speechless dwarf, "perhaps the friendship of dwarves and elves, which has been so strained for many years, will now be restored."

She glanced back at Legolas and then nodded to Gimli before moving to Arwen. The Lady paused before raising her hand to her grandchild's cheek.

"To you, I give one of the finest daggers produced in our lands," Arwen took the dagger from Galadriel's outstretched hands. "You will need it, Arwen, before the end."

Galadriel then moved to stand before Sam and handed him a tiny box. "To you, dear Gardener, I give this. It is no mere trinket. Within is earth from my own garden. It will not help you against the dangers you are about to face, but perhaps one day, when you have returned home, you will use it to spread the hope this world needs more of."

Sam glanced at the dagger in Arwen's hand and seemed almost disappointed by his own gift, but he still held it close to him and smiled genuinely at Galadriel. The elf lady smiled and then moved on to Aragorn. The ranger had just fastened the green elf stone upon his cloak and looked up at the elven lady.

Galadriel moved her hand to the stone, "You have received what you were meant to get." Her hand then traveled to touch the Evenstar. "And you already bear the greatest of gifts. I have no other gift for you, Aragorn, but a warning to be watchful of every corner. The day is soon upon us when you must choose your path and either rise or fall with your people. I also ask of you to trust in your heart, _Elessar_, for you will need to in the dark days that lie ahead."

The ranger smiled up at the fair elf and she moved to the last member of the fellowship. Frodo looked up at her and returned the smile. He would miss Galadriel and her words of wisdom. Though she had given him a glimpse of what the Ring could have done to her, and it had frightened him, she had also been the only one to understand him, being a Ring bearer as she was.

"You, Frodo Baggins, out fellowship's Ring bearer, I have saved for last. And I give you the most precious of gifts," she handed him a vial that shimmered with a clear, bright light. "The light of our most beloved star, Eärendil. May it lighten your dark path."

When she has done, Galadriel stepped back to her husband and took his hand in hers. Together they watched the fellowship before them and the lady spoke, "Now has come the time of our farewell... _Namarië. _May you have a safe journey on the river Anduin."

The nine of the fellowship bowed their heads and expressed their gratitude of the days of peace and welcome they had shared in Lothlórien. When they were done, one by one they all walked towards the boat. As Aragorn walked up to say his farewell of Celeborn, the elf lord stopped him with a hand on his elbow. The elf led the ranger aside to keep their conversation private and then handed the man a sheathed dagger. Aragorn looked down at it and nodded in understanding as he took it into his own, calloused hands.

"Aragorn, as their leader you must know the dangers you are about to face. By the falls of Rauros, you will have to make your choice, to stop at the western bank or eastern bank. It will be your choice, Aragorn, but you must understand that neither is safe. You are put at great risk already, for strange Orcs bearing the white mark of Saruman, have been seen not far from our own land. _Le aphadar aen_." (_You are being followed_.)

"Thank you, Celeborn. I will remember your advice when the time calls for it," Aragorn promised with a grim smile.

As the ranger turned to walk away, Celeborn sighed and said, "I have but one more think to ask of your already burdened mind, Aragorn."

Aragorn stopped and turned back. "Anything, my lord."

"Take care of our Arwen. Where you will go, we can no longer look after her and protect her. Lord Elrond and myself are counting on you to keep her out of harms way."

* * *

And so the three boats bearing the fellowship set off, in the first sat Frodo and Sam, with Aragorn rowing. In the second Boromir rowed, with Merry and Pippin in front of him. And last, in the third boat, sat Arwen, Gimli and Legolas, the latter the one with the oar in his strong hands.

On land, the other elves watched them as they went down the river. Their was a seldom felt melancholy in the air that seemed to engulf them all. The joy that had been shared within the realms of the elves had passed definitely now and seemed nothing more than a distant memory to the fellowship. Now, their thoughts were all on what lay ahead and none could hide their worries and fears anymore.

Arwen turned to watch her grandfather on the banks and he smiled back at her. She raised her hand in a sign of farewell and he returned the gesture. Further up on land stood Galadriel who smiled at each of them as they passed her on the river.

With a sigh, Arwen turned her gaze away from her kin on land and watched as they neared the river bend up ahead. She felt hot tears burn her eyes and she closed them tight. Deep inside of her, she felt an indescribable feeling that this would be her last journey.

"Aye, do not fear, my lady," Gimli said as he glanced at the elf behind him in the boat. "You will be reunited with your family again some day, when this is all over."

"Oh, Gimli," Arwen sighed and managed a sad smile. "I am not sure I will."

* * *

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	11. Journey to the Argonath

**11. Journey to the Argonath**

The fellowship soon realized the advantages of having taken the river, as it not only saved them time but also protected them from watchful eyes. It, too, offered them some silence in their solace and so felt safer still. Though time was saved, their travel would still be about five days on the mighty waters.

Despite the overall feeling of a temporary safety, Aragorn never failed to remember Celeborn's words of warning and his eyes thus never left the shore in search of dangers. Thus far, after three days in the boats, he had seen nothing to indicate that the strange orcs were on their tail and the ranger could only hope their luck would last them the remaining days.

With gentle strokes of the oar, Aragorn rowed on when the sound of a morose sigh reached his ears. He gazed down at the hobbit in front of him and noticed how Frodo's shoulders slumped.

"Is something wrong, Frodo?" the ranger asked in concern.

The young hobbit glanced back over his shoulder and their was much anguish in his eyes as he replied, "I feel my sorrow returning. The serenity of the elves has now left my heart completely and grief is creeping back with great haste."

Sam, who sat by his friend's side, put his hand on Frodo's shoulder and encouragingly said, "Do not worry, mister Frodo. Gandalf is in a better place. Besides, we're on the right course now, you see, mister Frodo. Things are picking up. You will soon be rid of that burden of yours."

A small sparkle of something twinkled in the younger hobbit's eyes as he gazed at his close friend. "Do you really think so, Sam?"

"I _hope _so, mister Frodo," Sam said with a shrug. "Hope is all I can offer you."

Frodo smiled back at his friend, "Keep your hope, Sam. Promise me that. As long as we have hope we can do this."

Sam nodded and returned the warm smile, "I promise."

"Let hope be the last thing we lose," Aragorn muttered and his eyes returned to watch the shoreline.

The two hobbits noticed his apprehensive look, and cautiously Sam asked, "Is something wrong, Strider? You've been looking at the shores ever since we set out the day before yesterday…"

Aragorn heaved a sigh. For a second he hesitated whether to tell them the truth, but eventually caved in. It was better they learned this way. He lowered his voice as he replied, "There is a darkness following us in the woods. The danger cannot be denied."

"We're being followed?!" Sam asked as his eyes widened in fear. He too hasted to look at the shores but unsure what to look for, he soon turned back to the ranger.

"Is the river the safest place then?" Frodo questioned.

"We are earning days this way, hopefully we have earned enough time to outrun whatever follows," Aragorn answered vaguely.

"But… what if we have not?" asked Sam, who had very little trust in boats as it was. He glanced down at the still waters below and grimaced. "What if our enemies catch up to us when we are on the river? I cannot swim if need arise for it."

Aragorn looked away from the hobbits and pondered the question. Once more, he decided to be frank with his companions, "If they do attack us we could be in trouble out here. If they fire at us with arrows, there are few ways to escape but into the waters. We would stand little chance of making it out alive."

Frodo and Sam exchanged a worried look, finally the dark-haired hobbit looked up at their leader and said, "At least you are being honest with us. Let us hope we truly have earned enough time."

Aragorn nodded in agreement before he glanced back at the other boats. In the closest boat, Gimli was telling the two elves joyful stories from his home. Aragorn made out the last sentence of the dwarf, "Have either of you ever heard the folk tales in the world of Men spoken about the dwarf ladies? Aye, it is an often repeated lie that dwarf ladies do not exist-"

The ranger smiled at Gimli's inner fire before he turned his attention to the third boat at the end of their line. In it, Merry and Pippin were apparently playing a game of riddles. It seemed Boromir had given up guessing as he gazed down at the hobbits now and then with a bewildered frown, but mostly kept silent as he rowed on.

Everyone's mood seemed calm and the river ran its own course without any strong currents to be tamed along the way. The sense of safety almost lulled Aragorn from his watchfulness, but he caught himself before his mind could sway. He must never forget the truth. Indeed, as their leader it was his responsibility to keep them all safe and so he raised his guard once more.

"Aragorn?" Legolas voice suddenly echoed across the river.

The ranger turned back and saw that both elves were watching the shore with unblinking eyes; they had sensed the danger then. Aragorn silently cursed to himself for he knew what it meant. Their hopes of having earned any big advantage by the river had not been as great as expected.

Aragorn shared a look with Legolas and Boromir and three men picked up speed.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in tense silence and when the sun began to set on the skies above, Aragorn ordered the boats to the western shore for a night of rest.

They all helped pull the boats onto the graveled shore and prepared to set up a simple camp. Behind a few large boulders, they found a safe place and pulled over a couple of logs to use as benches. Sam and Legolas picked up any twigs and discarded branches they could find and collected it in a small pit. As Sam started the fire and began to prepare their dinner, Pippin walked over with an impatient look upon his face.

Having read the coming question in his eyes, Sam answered, "I'm afraid it is going to be awhile yet."

The rest nodded but Pippin groaned slightly as he leaned back against one of the logs and began to talk a great deal about hobbit food with Merry and Gimli.

The rest of the fellowship were scattered over the logs and the rocky shore. Upon the skies, the setting sun cast a great array of colors across the horizon as the rest of the heavens darkened in preparation for the night.

"Milady?" Frodo asked suddenly and the elf turned in the small one's direction. "Walk with me?"

Arwen had been standing with Legolas by the shore, watching and listening to the sounds of the twilight. She bowed her head at the hobbit and walked over to him with smooth steps. "Of course. Lead the way."

The elf and hobbit walked further away on the rocky beach until they were out of sight behind a few boulders. Boromir had watched them retreat with a thoughtful look and now turned around to face the group's leader.

"I have been thinking..." he said, but hesitated to continue.

"Speak your mind, Boromir," Aragorn encouraged as he lit his pipe and exhaled some smoke into the evening air. He sat upon one of the logs and gazed deep into the fires. "Go on, I am listening."

"The city of Osgiliath has fallen, Aragorn."

"Yes," Aragorn nodded and glanced up at the man. "But do not worry. Your people is strong, Sauron will not yet dare attack Gondor. Your home is safe, for now."

"Perhaps you are right," Boromir agreed and his eyes swiftly flickered in the direction Frodo and Arwen had disappeared in. When he continued his voice was a low whisper, meant only for the ears of the ranger. "But perhaps, just to be safe… What if you came with me to Gondor already at this point in time? Your mere presence - _the heir to the throne -_ it could help boost morale and give the soldiers the hope they need to conquer a mightier foe. We do not all need to travel with Frodo into Mordor, perhaps a company as big as ours would be too easily detected by our enemies anyway... You could do more help leading our people instead of this quest."

"It is a noble thought, Boromir, but your people-"

"Frodo should come too. Just for a little while. The Ring could be of even greater aid to Gondor."

The ranger threw a stern look in Boromir's direction as he saw the true intention of the man's request. Slowly he rose from the log as he shook his head. "The Ring will go to Mordor."

"Aragorn, our people is suffering. You would not leave them to death and despair, would you? My brother is defending our people with too few men! He could need all the help we can muster... I _need_ to help him."

"And you are free to leave any time you wish to do so," Aragorn assured and then turned his back on the Gondorian before he concluded, "But the Ring will go to Mordor."

Boromir took hold of Aragorn's shoulder and swung him back around with desperation in his actions. Aragorn saw the pleading look in the nobleman's eyes. "Just a short detour? Let me at least try to save my city with it, before it is too late."

The ranger shrugged off the hands from his shoulders and leaned closer as he hissed, "I will not take the Ring within a hundred leagues of _your_ city."

Enraged at this, Boromir glared at the man before he turned on his heel and stormed off down the beach. The others watched him go with surprise written plain across their faces.

Gimli turned to look up at the ranger with a frown. "What's wrong with that lad?"

The man sighed and shook his head in response. He knew Boromir meant well even though his request had been pointless. Aragorn hadn't needed to react so strongly and with remorse he called out for the nobleman. "Boromir!"

The man was almost out of earshot and did not stop his furious escape. Aragorn didn't hesitate as he hurried after him with long strides.

* * *

Meanwhile, Arwen walked in silence across the loose stones next to Frodo, who seemed deep in his own contemplation.

"I am sorry," the hobbit offered after several minutes of silence, "I had to get away. I could feel an argument starting... Every time someone in our company fights, the Ring grows heavier and burns hot against my skin. And I can hear it... it whispers things to me in the dark. I had to go away before it started."

Arwen felt worry enter her mind as she looked down at her friend. "I did not realize the Ring had grown to be such a burden, Frodo."

"It has... And it is all _mine_ to bear. Do not get me wrong, milady, but I so often just long to be alone..."

"Then why did you ask me to come with you now?"

"I don't know. A part of me wonders if you can..." he sighed as words failed him. "_I don't know_. I cannot explain it."

Arwen felt the confusion in the small hobbit and smiled down at him. "To form a bond with the hand that helped you is not uncommon, Frodo. I did aid you once, perhaps a small part of you is simply remembering that."

"Yes... Perhaps. You must be right, of course. That must be it... Truthfully, I think all of this is getting to my mind. Since losing Gandalf the reality of our quest has truly hit me. I now am beginning to fully understand what lies ahead for me."

Arwen crouched down before the hobbit until she was in the same eye height as him. Her silver eyes sought out his weary ones. "Frodo... Though I know you as a Ring bearer crave solitude, it is important you never forget that the rest of us will always be here for you, even in your darkest of days. Do not always choose the lonely path. Trust your heart when to make those solitary choices."

"You sound like the Lady of Light. My heart... I remember in Rivendell I thought how blessed I was to have friends like Merry, Pippin and Sam, especially Sam... And you and Aragorn who saved me. Though I have lost Gandalf, I know I am still surrounded by friends. Yet, I can't help but wonder..."

"Wonder what, Frodo?"

The hobbit sighed as he gazed out at the dark waters of the quiet river. "We all have our own paths on this earth. I know where my path is taking me, but I am not so sure it will also be the path for the rest of you. In fact, I'm not convinced it ought to be."

Frodo suddenly froze as his eyes caught the sight of a slim, pale hand on the opposite bank, the hand glimmered wet under the pale moon. A second later, the hand disappeared behind a rock. "Did you see that? It was Gollum. He has been tracking us for a long time, I first saw him in Moria. Gandalf told me about him. He was the Ring bearer before Bilbo had the gem in his possession. If I am not careful, he is what I could one day become..."

Arwen opened her mouth to respond when suddenly a furious Boromir stormed past them further up on the stone beach. Not far behind him, Aragorn followed and stopped by the elf and the hobbit.

"What is the matter with him?" the hobbit asked with a cautious tone as his hand searched out the chain around his neck.

Arwen turned to her beloved. "Should I talk to him?"

The ranger shrugged and sighed in defeat. "I do not believe he will listen... but you are welcome to try."

* * *

Not until long after the sun had settled behind the mountains and the moon had made itself comfortable on its heavenly throne did Boromir and Arwen return back to the fellowship's camp. The others had mostly drifted off to sleep already, except Aragorn who had waited for two to return.

As they did, he threw a log on the fire and rose to meet them. The Gondorian ran a tired hand through his hair as he glanced at the ranger briefly before turning away and walked away to his makeshift bed. Arwen, meanwhile, walked over to Aragorn and together the two walked close to the river where no eavesdropping ears could overhear them.

Aragorn glanced back at the other man as he lay down and pretended to fall asleep immediately. "How did it go?"

Arwen hesitated and Aragorn frowned down at her. It was not often in their relationship he had seen her as he did now. She sighed and looked up at the ranger with an imploring gaze. "I would say it had an unexpected outcome, but I am not sure what you think of it. I made him see that he would never sway your mind and I traded you and Frodo for... me. I told Boromir I would go with him to Minas Tirith and help the race of Men fight our mutual enemy."

Aragorn felt all thoughts leave his head as he gazed down at his beloved in bewilderment. It took him a whole minute to recollect his scattered thoughts and as he did, he frowned down at the woman before him. "_Mani ume lle quena?_" (_What did you say?)_

"_Amin hiraetha, Melamin,_" she managed and gazed out at the river with a shrug. "When I talked with him, I suddenly remembered Galadriel's words to me and the conversation you and I had afterwards. It struck me that this could be our solution. If I went with Boromir, the two of us could be parted without much pain... and find our way back to each other." (_I'm sorry, my love_.)

The ranger hesitated as he pondered her words. "Arwen, is this your wish?"

"I do not pretend to know what lies ahead. But if Galadriel is right and we must part, I would prefer us to part in this manner than any other. Why fight what must happen anyway?"

Aragorn sighed and a frown flashed across his handsome features. "I do believe you rely on your grandmother's words to literal... But, of course... Whatever you wish. Go to Gondor, be safe. I must admit, a part of me greatly relishes that you will not go to Mordor with me. At least for the foreseeable future, Gondor will be safer."

"The world of Men will not be safe for long..." the elf maiden pointed out.

Aragorn smirked down at her. "Then I had better finish this quest and join you soon, milady. Besides, I had already promised Boromir I would enter his city one day. Gondor lies in my future, too."

Arwen felt hope surge through her as she clasped his hand in her own. "Does this mean you have chosen your path?"

The man chuckled and shrugged his shoulder. "The only path I have chosen is the one I share with you."

She smiled at him and he suddenly remembered something, he turned around swiftly and pulled two objects from his belt. Arwen watched curiously as he presented her with the two objects. She held up the gifts to inspect them under the shining moon. It was two gauntlets made from the toughest of elvish leather in a deep, forest-green tone. Along the sides were silver embroideries in the shapes of the Evenstar that shone in the moonlight.

"In Lothlórien you gave me a gift to find my inner hope," Aragorn explained. "I wish to present this gift to you, made in the forests of Lórien, so that you in turn may be reminded of your own strength. _Lle naa belegohtar__, _Arwen. Though I know you were never born as one. With these your wrists will be stable and your sword will remain in your firm hand. It is a small gift, I know..."(_You are a mighty warrior, Arwen_.)

Arwen smiled as Aragorn helped lace the gauntlets onto her wrists. She held her hands against the new shirt she wore, which too was made out of tough elvish fabric. The shirt, which held the same deep green tone as the gauntlets, had been a gift from Galadriel to replace the shirt that had been torn.

"It is a small, but thoughtful gift. _Hannon le_, Estel."

* * *

Next morning, the air was thick with tension between the two men and the rest of the fellowship were quieter as a result. Almost without exchanging a single word they all gather ed their belongings and prepared to set off.

Aragorn had changed their seats in order to make sure they could travel greater lengths without stopping. With their enemy close behind, they had no room now to stop before they reached the Falls of Rauros. He had therefor asked Gimli and Sam to change places, and Pippin and Arwen to do the same.

This meant that there were two capable rowers in two of the boats which could alternate rowing, one during the day and one during the night. Aragorn and Gimli would take turns as would Boromir and Arwen. Only Legolas was capable to row the great distance on his own and had thus been given the responsiblity on his own.

As Arwen took the oar first in her boat, she glanced at her father's hauberk that rested by her feet. It had been too heavy to wear beneath her new shirt and so she instead carried it for another day. Each time she looked at it, she found the strength to row faster.

On their journey the river cut many sharp turns and the mountains stretched towards the sky as if willing to embrace it. They travelled on the waters in this manner for the remaining two days and by the end most of the fellowship had grown sick and weary of being stuck in their boats.

By midday on their fifth day on the river they finally reached the tall statues of the Kings of Men, the Argonath.

"Frodo, look," Aragorn whispered and gently shook the hobbit's shoulder before he pointed up at the gigantic statues. The others followed their gaze and looked up at the magnificent statues in awe.

"My ancestors," the ranger breathed and felt how the powers of his line settled within his heart, he smiled up at the stone statues and slowly bowed his head in reverence of days passed.

The boats slowly drifted past the Argonath and a short distance behind they could all make out the Falls of Rauros. Aragorn swiftly ordered the boats to the western banks. As they rowed over, the ranger glanced behind him at the eastern bank.

As they reached the beach, Sam turned around to face the leader. "So, why aren't we at the eastern bank?"

Aragorn jumped from his boat and pushed it ashore. He watched as the others followed his lead and not until all three boats were secured did he turn back to answer the hobbit's question. "Because we must first say our farewells to Boromir and the decision if all will go with Frodo into Mordor must be made."

Frodo, who had been unloading the boats, stopped as he heart Aragorn's words. With a heartfelt sigh, he dropped his belongings and turned from the others.

Sam, meanwhile, frowned up at the ranger. "Why shouldn't we all go into Mordor? We must help Frodo, by any means we can."

The others unloaded their things on the sandbank and Aragorn sent Merry and Pippin to find logs for a fire, they quickly scurried off before Aragorn turned back to the hobbit.

"Sam, that is your opinion, and not necessarily the group's," he said with a soft smile. "You know this choice is individual, no one has to follow Frodo if they do not wish it."

Though he knew the discussion was far from over, the hobbit seemed to accept this explanation for now as he grumpily settled on the sand to prepare their food. A few minutes later, Merry and Pippin returned and dropped several thick branches in the sand next to their friend who easily started the fire.

Aragorn sat down beside it and Merry, Pippin and Gimli all sat down beside him.

For a long time no one spoke at all, but eventually the ranger broke the silence, "You must all be reminded that you are allowed to turn back anytime you wish. It is also my own recommendation that not all of us go with Frodo. It will not matter if we are ten or two who follow him, it is not the strength in number that will help us get into Mordor."

All listened to his words and the man continued when no one spoke up, "You have all proven you wish to move forward in the sense that you help fight this evil. As I see it, there are therefor two ways to go from here. One is that you go with Boromir to Gondor and help in any way you can there. Or two, you go with Frodo and myself into Mordor. If your choice is the second path we will cross to the eastern shore at nightfall and approach Mordor from the north. But it will not be an easy road for we will have to pass through Emyn Muil, the large mountainous labyrinth. If we get through, there are even further dangers that await us. I cannot promise that we will all make it out alive, I cannot even promise my own survival."

Everyone remained silent at the end of his speech as they pondered his words. The reality of the situation was upon them and they all knew that they had reached a crossroad from whence they could not go back. They had passed the point of no return and could only look forward from here. Where their path would lead them would have to be decided, though the choice alone would not be simple.

Arwen stood by the edge of the forest and stared into it as she felt Legolas join her side. She could feel the dangers approach and knew the shadows that lurked ever closer would soon step into the light.

"You feel it too," Legolas whispered into her ear and she simply nodded. The blond elf turned around and walked over to Aragorn, kneeled by the ranger and quietly gave him the warning.

Sam, who was tired of the tense silence, suddenly spoke, "We will all journey into Mordor, won't we? I mean, except for Boromir that is. No one will falter from this journey?"

"Actually... Merry and I talked with Boromir in the boat and... we might go with him," Pippin timidly admitted and sank back form the withering glare of the gardener.

"Samwise, you must understand, not everyone might feel as you do," Aragorn said as he saw the angry look in the hobbit's eyes.

"But we cannot abandon Frodo!" Sam pleaded.

"I'm not asking you to," Aragorn promised. "But the decision is not yours to make for all of us."

Sam nodded, "I'm not trying to decide for everyone, it's just... Oh! I thought you would understand, but you don't!" the hobbit turned to watch Arwen behind him and hastily said, "But you understand me, don't you, milady?"

Arwen was drawn from her thoughts and did a double-take before she turned to face the blond hobbit. "Me? Why me?"

Sam sighed in defeat and lowered his gaze to the fire. Arwen exchanged a quick look with Aragorn before she turned to face the young hobbit. "Samwise, listen to me... and the rest of you might as well. I am going with Boromir. I will fight our enemy from the threshold of the abyss; Gondor. I will not follow Frodo into Mordor."

The others watched her in silence as she steadily held Sam's gaze. His pale eyes were wide as saucers in surprise as he opened and closed his mouth a few times but without forming any words. For a reason Arwen did not understand, she saw a feeling of betrayal shine in his eyes.

"You are going with _him_?" he asked slowly and his voice faltered. "I thought you would have been among the last to abandon Frodo on his quest."

Arwen smiled down at the hobbit. Sam smiled sadly up at her and turned to ask Frodo for his opinion, but his eyes could not find him. The blond hobbit shot up from the sand and looked around as he shouted, "Where is mister Frodo?"

Everyone else realized the hobbit's absence, too and Legolas was the first to point out, "Boromir is nowhere among us either."

"We must find mister Frodo!" Sam urged and prepared to dash off into the woods when Aragorn's firm hand stopped him. The hobbit turned back and saw fear flash in the ranger's eyes but Aragorn shook his head.

"Don't run off yet, Sam."

"Take it easy, Sam," Pippin tried to reassure his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Frodo must be with Boromir, he is safe."

Sam hesitated and walked over to Arwen who had returned to watching the forest again. The hobbit noticed that her shining, silver eyes seemed to be in a far off place and he wondered what exactly she was seeing that he could not.

"Can you sense him?" Sam whispered and the maiden shook her head once.

"Boromir!" she suddenly cried and all turned as the man in question wandered onto the banks from the depths of the forest.

"Where is Frodo?" Aragorn quickly asked as he walked to meet the Gondorian.

Boromir met the man's eyes and asked in a trembling voice, "So he is not here then?"

"He is not," Aragorn answered with a simple frown. "...What has happened, Boromir?"

"Nothing!" Boromir assured and walked past the ranger. He sat down in the sand by the lit fire with his head lowered.

"Tell us, Boromir," Aragorn ordered in a tone that was no longer gentle.

The man exhaled shakily before he looked up at the other man. "I walked off into the woods earlier to find some peace. I found Frodo walking aimlessly in the woods and I stopped to talk to him. I asked him if he could consider accompanying me to the White City, but he refused. This angered me, I can admit to that. I said things I should not have and then, all the sudden, he was gone. He literally vanished in front of me. I do not know where he went and I last saw him about thirty minutes ago."

He offered no further explanation, but Aragorn felt there was more to this story. There was, however, no time to push for details so he let it slide for now.

Arwen turned back to the woods as she sensed something stirring close, something that certainly wasn't Frodo. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, she felt the great shadow was close by. She concentrated hard and suddenly a snarling, twisted face of an Uruk-hai with a painted white hand across its face appeared before her inner eye.

Her eyes flew open and she gasped, "We must find Frodo!"

Sam was the first to react. He took his sword from the ground and ran off into the woods before anyone could stop him. Aragorn and Arwen exchanged a quick glance. The ranger nodded once and the elf immediately hurried after the hobbit.

Legolas and Gimli teamed up and ran off in another direction as Aragorn turned back to the two remaining hobbits.

"Merry, Pippin… Guard the fire," he ordered with a pointed look and then turned to Boromir. "I know not what happened in there, Boromir. And so I ask of you to guard the hobbits instead of coming with me. _Do not fail them_."

And then the ranger, too, hurried off into the deep covers of the forest. Boromir once more leaned his head into his calloused hands as Merry and Pippin exchanged a look.

A minute later the Gondorian sighed wearily and said, "It will all be well, little ones. You need not worry, Aragorn will find…"

The man trailed off when he looked up and realized he was alone on the beach, Merry and Pippin were nowhere in sight. He immediately felt his heart beat furiously within his chest and flew up from the ground. He looked for their footprints and hurried after the two hobbits into the woods.

* * *

_Please review?_


	12. Breaking of the Fellowship

**12. Breaking of the Fellowship**

Sam walked on swift feet through the woods in Arwen's company. His heart beat like the thunderous hooves of horses as fear gripped his throat. He wasn't stupid, he knew of the dangers that were lurking in these lands. The closer they moved to Mordor, the bigger the risk and danger grew each second. Of course,the danger was greater still because of the trinket which hung in a chain around Frodo's neck. Sauron and his minions desired it in their grasp once more and therefor Frodo was in the most peril of them all. That he had decided to wander off alone into the woods was close to madness, and there was no excuse for it in Sam's book.

"Do not worry, Samwise," Arwen said next to him in a vane attempt to cheer him up.

"I cannot _not_ worry," Sam confessed and quickened his steps. Not two steps later, he tripped on a branch but managed to steady himself. He stumbled onward. "Not for as long as Frodo is out here alone."

"I'm sure he is safe," Arwen said and this time the hobbit realized she was attempting to reassure herself as much as him.

He glanced up at the tall maiden. "There is something you're not telling me..."

The elf turned to Sam and looked surprised he had guessed the truth but nodded and truthfully told him, "You have guessed the truth, Sam. I do not know if Frodo is safe, the very fact that I could not sense him worries me. I'm sure, though, that Boromir didn't harm him…"

"_Boromir_?" Sam asked quickly and frowned up at her. "Is he dangerous?"

"Not intentionally," Arwen shook her head. "But he is unbalanced. The Ring has taken a hold of him and is affecting his thoughts and actions. He wishes what is best for all of us, but he now sees the world through clouded eyes. …I would not trust his judgment concerning the Ring."

"Why not?" asked the blond hobbit. "What has he said to you?"

"You heard him too; he wishes to take the Ring to Gondor and use it. If the Ring is indeed affecting Boromir, I'm not sure how he would behave to Frodo when he refused his wish. You saw how down the man was; he was ashamed of something he had done. What, I do not know."

"_And then you could not sense Frod_o!" Sam practically shouted. "So Boromir _could _have done something to him! Something terrible! If that is the case, it is of even more importance that we find him _soon_!"

The hobbit quickened his pace further and pushed through a bush. He brushed twigs from his shirt and kept going. As he started up a steep hill, he slipped on the autumn colored leaves and fell face first onto the ground. With a deep sigh, he heaved himself up to his knees.

"Way to go, Gamgee!" he whispered to himself and groaned. "Once again, your clumsiness prevails…"

He felt Arwen place a gentle, pale hand on his shoulder and looked into her sparkling eyes that held much wisdom and concern.

"Sam, what is troubling you?" she asked.

"You mean besides the fact that Frodo wandered off alone into the forest after having encountered an unstable Boromir, carrying the One Ring which can only be described as pure evil and could well be walking towards the darkness that already awaits him?" Sam asked and stood from the ground with the elf's help. He brushed his clothes from dirt before he continued, "I'm scared for Frodo, milady... He is my _best_ _friend_, and I would go with him to the end. But he isn't letting me, he keeps pushing me aside. He carries this burden alone when I know I could help him, if he would just let me…"

Arwen sighed, "He is a ring bearer, Sam, and they often conceive themselves to be alone. And in many regards, they are correct. We do not understand the burdens they carry upon their shoulders. ...The Ring is _his _burden, Sam."

Sam's eyes glistened with un-shed tears and he wiped at them briefly. "I made a promise to Gandalf. I promised I would look out for Frodo..."

"_And you are,_" Arwen assured him. "You cannot help Frodo carry the Ring, but you can help him. Don't give in, Sam. No matter how little or great you might think you're affecting him, the truth is he needs you now to make it to the end."

Sam paused and looked up at the elf as his eyes slowly dried and a new determination settled within his soul. "You are right, milady. I _am_ trying. I will go with Frodo to the end, because I care for him. And that is the reason why I asked you if you did not understand me earlier."

"Sam... I do not understand you right now."

"You love Strider," Sam stated matter of fact. "You came on this quest for him, did you not? I came on this quest for Frodo, if anyone else had taken the Ring, I would not have come. That is also the reason why I will follow him into Mordor and beyond. Strider is going to Mordor and I thought you would follow him to the end."

"Because of my love for him?" Arwen exhaled and stopped walking. "Sam... I would go with Aragorn to the end, but I cannot. I was told we would be parted and that we could not change it."

"So you are going to Gondor because someone said you and Strider could not remain together now? You are not parted by any force then... only by your own doubts and fears. Listen to yourself, Arwen... It sounds to me like you are running away before the fight has even begun. You still have a choice... but you choose to leave."

Arwen was somewhat stunned by the bluntness of her small friend and she pondered his words. "Sam, you do not fully understand-"

"I think I do," Sam interrupted. "You're trying to control something that cannot be controlled. You and Strider are afraid of what lies ahead, we all are... But if we give in to fear we have already lost against the shadows. We have to help Frodo, it is for the greater good that our quest is completed. There is no room for selfish thoughts and doubts."

Arwen considered his words thoroughly and finally let out a deep sigh, "I have surrendered, have I not? I was so blinded by what was foretold that I forgot I could still control my own fate. It is not over until the end, and this is far from the end."

Sam placed a comforting hand on her arm. "To be afraid is natural, to hesitate is something we all suffer from. We are all allowed to doubt ourselves, just as long as we don't give in to our dark thoughts so easily."

"...Well, Sam," the elf stood tall and smiled down at him, "You have proven you are both wise and righteous, and I thank you for being honest with me. You have drawn the veil from my eyes and I do see now that I must do what is right. I cannot simply give up on this quest, and I cannot go to Gondor."

The hobbit smiled up at the woman and the two continued further into the woods. The trees swayed slightly in the wind and the entire wooden floor was covered with several layers of different colored leaves that danced across the ground. Sam continued gazing around but could nowhere see any signs of Frodo.

"Where are you?" Sam whispered to himself.

The same thought crossed Arwen's mind but she kept her pondering to herself. The danger she felt in the woods had come closer and seemed to spread out in the forest like a heavy cloak. She feared it would be upon them very soon.

"I do not understand it…" Sam said suddenly as the two found a forest trail to follow. "Why he wandered out alone. He knows of all the dangers."

"You know very well why he left," Arwen remarked softly.

"He feels alone, I know. But I wish he wouldn't seek away from us! I swear I will not let him go alone any more after this. It's too dangerous!"

Arwen hesitated as she asked, "What if you cannot stop him from going alone?"

"Nay," the hobbit shook his head almost frantically. The mere idea was not one he was willing to accept. "I will not leave him. I will find a way!"

At that moment, a wailing sound echoed between the trees. The haunting sound was coming from behind them and the two listened close until it silenced.

"It is the horn of Gondor. _Boromir_!" Arwen breathed. "He is in trouble."

Without warning, Sam suddenly turned around and started sprinting in the opposite direction.

"Sam?!" Arwen shouted after him.

"I must find Frodo!" he shouted without turning around. "I know in my heart I will not find him there, not from whence the horn sounded!"

Arwen looked after Sam as the hobbit scurried away, she stood immobile among the leaves. She looked back and forth and pondered her choice. As the horn wailed a second time, she made up her mind and ran towards the sound. As the sound was clear, she knew she wasn't far away from it.

She sped up her pace when suddenly a brown-haired hobbit came running down the steep hill towards her.

"Frodo?" Arwen breathed and stopped. He merely shook his head and tried to sneak past her but she raised a hand to stop him.

"Where are you going?" she asked as he avoided her eyes.

"I must go," he pleaded and raised his gaze. The unspoken anguish and determination was clear in his eyes. She could read his heart like a book. He was heading for Mordor, and he was going alone. She nodded once and it was all the approval the hobbit needed as he rushed past her towards the beach.

Arwen threw a final glance in the direction he had disappeared. Frodo's path was no longer her path, it was not her place to follow him anymore. Silently she hoped, however, that Sam would find him for she feared Frodo would not prevail on his quest alone.

The elf maiden drew Hadhafang from its sheath and then ran forward once more. The horn was silent but she knew where the sound had came from. Her feet moved swift across the ground and she felt her heart beat faster by every step she took.

As she ran around a hill, she saw him before her and paused.

Boromir was alone fighting a massive horde of Uruk-hai. The man was swinging his sword around, successfully slaying several of the dark foes. Over on the side Arwen saw Merry and Pippin watch the man with awe and fear as he protected them. For a brief second, she wondered why they did not fight. Her question was soon answered when Boromir turned around.

An arrow was protruding from his left shoulder.

Arwen gasped and immediately rushed forward. She reached him just as an Uruk aimed to cut off his head. The elf easily blocked the blow and plunged her sword into the creature. It fell dead by her feet.

Boromir's breaths were heavy and irregular as he gazed up at her. A thankful smile played at the corner of his lips briefly before he turned to fight once more. Side by side, Arwen and Boromir fought, protecting the hobbits at all cost. Arwen felt her battle skills tested to the limit, the Uruks were far superior warriors than the orcs in Moria had been, but she refused to be bested.

Her keen elven ears picked up the sound of a bowstring being pulled back and turned around just in time to see an Uruk aim his bow at Boromir. Without hesitation, Arwen threw herself at the man and pulled him to the ground. The arrow flew over their heads and embedded itself into a tree trunk close by the hobbits. Arwen pushed off the ground and looked down at Boromir. His face was paler still and she realized she had pushed the arrow in his shoulder further in.

She hurried to pull him from the ground as tears sprang to her eyes. She could not let Boromir fall to a horrendous death in these woods. As she heard his weary breathing behind her she let out a strangled battle cry and swung her sword quickly back and forth at the Uruks, trying to give the man a chance to recover slightly.

Merry and Pippin both stood frozen in shock further behind as their wide eyes beheld Boromir's struggling form. Neither hobbit knew what to do or how to help, but were aware they had not much chance at life if they joined this fight.

With a shout of his own, Boromir turned and wielded his sword with all the strength he could muster. Arwen was amazed by this sudden surge of energy and heroism in him but understood it came from a will to protect their small friends. As the elf slit the throat of an orc, the man sliced another across its broad chest.

Neither one was prepared for the third arrow that split the air.

However, it was not aimed at Boromir.

Arwen felt it penetrate her back, by her right shoulder blade, and her back arched as she felt the pain erupt in her entire being and the warm blood oozed down her back. She let out a pained gasp and time seemed to slow as she willed her body to relax. Boromir was staggering in his steps as he stood before her to protect her as Merry and Pippin exchanged a look.

The two hobbits had just witnessed two of their closest friends take arrows for them, they could stand idly by no more. Simultaneously, they raised their swords and ran screaming into the battle. Neither one stood a chance as the Uruks lifted the small ones off the ground and carried them with them. Merry and Pippin dropped their swords as they tried to break free but to no avail.

Both Boromir and Arwen saw their friends be taken and fought to get closer to them, but the strength and numbers of the Uruk-hai held them back.

Arwen tried to disregard her pain as she fought, but knew it was a losing battle. One of the creatures attacked her with a heavy blow. She moved her sword up to stop it but as the two swords clashed Arwen had not the strength to fight, she screamed in agony as Hadhafang flew from her hand and landed amidst the leaves further away.

Her mind knew what was coming next and she willed her body to prepare for the final blow as the Uruk raised its sword. She was taken completely by surprise when the leader Uruk shouted, "We take the she-elf with us!"

The Uruk in front of Arwen sneered down at her menacingly. It raised an iron fist and hit her hard across the face. The Evenstar slumped over and felt herself succumb to the darkness.

* * *

"_Arwen_!" Boromir shouted.

He saw how the unconscious elf was heaved over the Uruk's shoulder and taken as well. The Uruk moved speedily away from the battlefield and Boromir had no chance catching up to it. Many of the Uruks now just continued past him, having gotten what they had searched for - the hobbits - but the man was still engaged with a last Uruk in battle. He wielded his sword in a terrifying arch and managed to slay the creature.

As it fell to the ground, however, the leader Uruk suddenly stood before him. Boromir had no time to react as it raised its sword and swung it down at him. Boromir deflected the attack and ducked as it came at him again. Boromir knew he was weakened, if he did not get assistance soon he would have no chance but to surrender to the grimness of death.

The Uruk grinned before it struck him with its fist, Boromir was thrown back against a tree but quickly steadied himself and swung his sword to attack. The Uruk parried his attack and managed to knock the sword from the man's hands.

Boromir breathed heavily as he watched the Uruk with great fear, this was his last moment and he had failed them all. _Frodo. Merry. Pippin. Arwen. Aragorn… _He had failed the fellowship and their quest and would now have no chance to restore his honor. For a fleeting second he wondered if his father would be proud of him, but deep inside knew it did not matter. The person he would miss most in the world was his brother and Boromir could only be grateful Faramir was not here to see him now.

The Uruk growled and lifted its arm to the arrow in Boromir's shoulder and twisted it, The man felt the pain erupt within him again and fell backwards with a pained shout. The Uruk raised his sword for the last time and snarled. Boromir swallowed and closed his eyes tight in preparation of death. But it never came.

Instead he heard Aragorn's war cry as the ranger threw himself on the Uruk. Boromir opened his eyes and saw the other man engage the Uruk in a strong, fierce battle.

Aragorn growled as he swung his sword at the Uruk but it kicked the sword out of his hands before slamming the ranger's head against its hard knee. Aragorn felt himself become disoriented as he was thrown back against a tree and looked up just as the Uruk threw its shield at him. The shield thrust Aragorn back against the tree and his neck was caught between it and the trunk of the tree.

The Uruk came at him with its sword drawn but the ranger managed to pull free in the nick of time, only to get a heavy blow to the head by the dark creature. He felt his head spin from all the blows he received. The Uruk threw him to the ground and Aragorn swiftly pulled out his elven dagger, the gift from Celeborn, and stabbed the Uruk in the leg. It shouted in pain and threw Aragorn aside.

Aragorn landed by his discarded sword and took it once more in his firm grasp. He stood and fought the Uruk with unfaltering power. Without hesitation he finally chopped off the Uruk's head and it fell limp to the forest floor. Aragorn looked down at it as he wiped blood from his running nose and breathed deeply.

The Uruks were all gone now and, Aragorn couldn't help but notice, so seemed everyone else. He knew not where the others were anymore. He had briefly run into Frodo but let him go when the Uruks had come. Legolas and Gimli had shortly after arrived and told him to move on ahead of them, but the rest of the fellowship he had not seen since they had split ways by the beach.

The ranger turned his head and his gaze locked with Boromir's. The Gondorian breathed heavily but nodded his head in silent thanks. Aragorn hurried over to him and saw the black arrow that protruded from Boromir's shoulder.

"Boromir…" he managed breathless and kneeled in front of the man to help tend to his wounds. The nobleman immediately stopped his hand and forced Aragorn to look into his eyes again.

"I failed them," he whispered. "They took the little ones."

Aragorn shook his head. "Do not trouble yourself, Boromir. We will find them, we will get them back."

"Arwen…" Boromir breathed and the ranger's blue eyes widened in plain fear.

"What about her?" Aragorn managed and his voice trembled slightly.

"She saved my life…" Boromir breathed. "Aragorn, she, too, was hit with an arrow. I know not how serious her wound was but it was no mere scratch."

"Where is she?" Aragorn asked as he gazed about him wildly without finding the elf in question.

Boromir's voice was sad, "The Uruks took her as well."

Aragorn knew not what to say but his eyes travelled in the direction the Uruks had disappeared, every fiber of his being itched to hunt them down and save his beloved. He looked back down at Boromir and knew his lust for vengeance had to wait.

"As I said, Boromir, we will save them. First I need to tend to that wound of yours," Aragorn said and moved his hands to the arrow but Boromir stopped him again.

"Leave it!" he breathed. "I deserve not to live."

Aragorn frowned when Boromir's eyes widened. The man whispered, "_Frodo!_ Where is Frodo?"

"I let him go," the ranger admitted with a mournful sigh.

"Then you did what I could not," Boromir managed shamefully between raspy breaths. "I am ashamed of my actions before, I told you not but I tried to take the Ring from him. I tried to take it by violent means..."

"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn assured his friend.

"I beg of you to leave me here and follow the Uruks. I have failed you all. Please, forgive me."

Aragorn frowned and decided he had heard enough. "Why do you speak such madness? I will not leave you here to death! You have failed no one, I see in your eyes that you have understood the danger and evil that the One Ring carries. You have not failed anyone, Boromir. You fought bravely for us. You have kept your honor intact."

"What honor can there be found when the enemy took three of our comrades when I was supposed to protect them?" Boromir asked in an agitated voice. "What hope is left when the fellowship is broken? The world of Men will fall and all will come to ruin, my city will end in ruins…"

Aragorn saw tears welling up in Boromir's eyes and shook his head. "The world of Men will _not_ fall. I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I will not let it fall. With your help we can fight back the evils and protect the White City, and our people. _We_ will not let them fall. But you must let go of your remorse, Boromir. If you do not forgive yourself than you are correct... then we will have failed."

"_Our people_…" Boromir whispered and looked into Aragorn's eyes with new hope. "Pull it out."

The man smiled and bowed his head before be moved his hand to the arrow. Boromir breathed heavily as he prepared himself for the pain that was to come. From the forest, Legolas suddenly appeared onto the former battlefield and ran over to the two men.

Without a word passing between the three men, the elf sat down on his knees and held Boromir down. Aragorn took hold of the arrow and started pulling. Boromir tried to struggle against the pain, but Legolas' strong hands held him still.

Gimli appeared behind them as Aragorn managed to pull the arrow completely out of the wound and threw it aside. Legolas immediately applied pressure to the bleeding wound.

"It will heal in time, Boromir," Aragorn promised. "You will live."

Boromir smiled up at the ranger and vowed to himself to never give up as easily again. He had learned his lesson and would not fall down the same path once more. As Aragorn explained the situation to Legolas and Gimli, Boromir looked over to the side where he saw the broken horn of Gondor, splattered with blood. He crawled over to it, while the others watched him, and gently Boromir held it in his hands.

"And where are the others?" Gimli huffed. "Where is Frodo?"

"Frodo has left for Mordor," Aragorn explained.

"Then we must follow!" Legolas breathed and started towards the sandbanks. The others didn't follow and he stopped. As he turned to look back at them he suddenly noticed something that shimmered under the sun's rays between the leaves. He recognized it at once for it was Arwen's blade. Solemnly, he took it in his hands and stood up to face his friends.

Meanwhile, Boromir was telling Gimli the last details about the events and the dwarf's look of shock had yet to settle.

"Merry and Pippin? And Arwen too?" Gimli asked though the question was rhetorical and no one needed to answer.

Aragorn helped Boromir rise from the ground and together the four of them returned to the banks. As they moved past the hill, Boromir crouched down to pick up Merry and Pippin's dropped swords.

"I'll keep these, until I meet them again," Boromir said as Aragorn and Legolas helped him forward.

Gimli walked behind them, shaking his head, "What will become of the fellowship now, when it is broken?"

"We will find a way, we all will," Aragorn said. "And we will find Arwen, Merry and Pippin."

"Sam?!" Gimli suddenly breathed as his eyes widened in fear. "Where is dear Sam?"

Legolas lowered his head. "What if he has passed on?"

"I'm sure he is with Frodo, Sam would not leave his master without a hard struggle," said Aragorn.

Not far away they saw the edge of the forest, and the mighty roar of the falls fell on their ears. They reached the beach at last and Aragorn helped Boromir sit down. Legolas looked across the shore and his elven eyes made out the small forms of Frodo and Sam on the eastern bank already heading up the hillside.

"Should we not follow them?" Legolas asked, but Aragorn shook his head.

"No. We cannot leave our friends in the hands of the Uruk-hai. They need our help now and Frodo has Sam. If anyone can help him all the way it is Sam. Their fate is no longer in our hands."

"But should we not follow him, as was asked of us?" Gimli asked.

"You may follow him, if you wish. Or you may follow me," Aragorn answered.

Boromir stood from the ground on shaky legs and tried to ignore his pain. He walked closer to the river and faced the Falls of Rauros. "I never wanted to come to Imladris in the first place. I wanted to help my people, my brother…"

"Why did you come then?" asked Legolas.

"My father wished it. He was the one who wanted the Ring to come to Gondor. I was a fool for listening."

"You have changed, Boromir," Aragorn said again. "Do not bother yourself with thoughts of the Ring. Leave it behind you."

"You are right. The foolish ideas of my father are no longer my own," Boromir said. He turned around and looked back at the other three where they stood on the sand banks. In his right hand was the horn of Gondor. "The path he wished for me is no longer the path I must travel down." Boromir looked at Aragorn. "I will follow the right path. I will follow you my brother, my friend and captain… My king."

Aragorn bowed his head. Boromir then turned to the blond elf, "Legolas, friend, will you help me throw this horn down the Falls? The loss will be the mark of this new path I have chosen."

Legolas smiled and took the horn from Boromir. The elf threw it as far as he could and they all looked as it hit the water and floated over the edge of the roaring waterfall.

"Now, let us not remain here any longer," Aragorn said and re-sheathed his dagger into his belt. "We must leave swiftly, we have no time to loose. Leave all that can be left behind. Come now."

Boromir nodded and fastened the two hobbit swords in his belt as Legolas looked down at Hadhafang which he had discarded earlier in the sand. With a sigh he kneeled by it, took it up and fastened it in his own belt. He would carry it in hope of one day being able to restore it to its owner.

Aragorn saw this and sighed, too, before he turned away. Inside his chest, he felt his heart plummet. He had no notion on how Arwen fared, or if she was even still alive. The arrow could have been fatal and the fear he had was only increased by the uncertainty of her health.

He remembered the night in Lothlórien, after all this bloodshed it felt so long ago, and the memory was now a sad one in his mind. He had been wrong to deny the truth of Galadriel's foresight, for it had come true in the darkest of ways. Aragorn had been parted from Arwen and the parting had been filled with more pain than the man could describe. Guilt ate away at his heart for he had also failed in his promises to Celeborn and Elrond, not to mention the promises he had made to himself when it came to the Evenstar's protection. He had also promised her in Lothlórien to remain by her side or part on terms of their own choosing, but all had shattered now. And Aragorn was far from blameless in all this.

The man turned to the boats to see if there was anything left which could be needed on their quest. His eyes landed on Elrond's hauberk in the front of one of the boats. The ranger sighed for he could not take it with him.

_I'm sorry, Ada. For everything. I should not have left her_, Aragorn thought and hoped his foster father would understand.

"Are you ready, Aragorn?" Boromir asked as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Aragorn looked back at Boromir. The wound on his shoulder had stopped bleeding, but it was sure to start once more as they began their hunt. The ranger was well aware it would slow their chase but hid his worry well.

"I am ready," Aragorn nodded.

"We will find her," the Gondorian promised in a low voice. "_You _will find her."

The ranger smiled at his friend before he looked over at the other two, they were also ready to set off.

"Let's hunt some orc," Aragorn said before he ran off into the forest, with Legolas, Gimli and Boromir not far behind.

* * *

_To be continued!_**  
**


	13. Hope

**13. Hope**

Night was falling over the lands as Aragorn gazed up at the cloudless, darkening sky. The stars twinkled as if to greet him from above and he smiled at the solace they offered him when he needed it the most.

This was the second night on their Uruk hunt and they had not covered nearly as much ground as Aragorn had hoped by now. He no longer could sense the Uruks' scent on the strong wind, even though their tracks were still easy to follow.

Aragorn glanced behind him at his companions who were huddled close by a small fire which Gimli had recently lit for their small party. The tension was heavy in the air, as always these days, for the severity of the situation was never forgotten. All four were focused on their task ahead and knew nothing could sway their minds until they reached their goal.

"We… We really ought to continue," Boromir managed meekly, but his urging words were cancelled out by the paleness of his face and the obvious discomfort he was in.

Aragorn shook his head. "No. You need to rest, Boromir. Even if just for a few hours."

"Why don't you leave me and run on ahead? I am positive you could have reached them by now if it wasn't for me."

"Nonsense, we've only lost half a day. Nothing we cannot cover tomorrow," Gimli huffed and glanced at Legolas who was tending to Boromir's wound. "It is healing fine, isn't it, Legolas?"

Legolas shook his head. "I fear the wound is threatening to open up once more. We have to do something to prevent it."

"What do you suggest?" Boromir asked as his eyes flickered nervously between the others.

"Since we have no needle and thread, I suggest burning the edges of the wound. Just as a temporary solution until we can find you proper help."

Boromir stiffened beneath the elf's touch but muttered, "Do it. Quickly."

Legolas nodded and picked up one of the thinner logs at the edge of the fire. The elf blew on the glowing tip and the light intensified for a second. Boromir gulped. Without further ado, Legolas moved the clothes away from the man's wound and pressed the glowing tip to its edges. Aragorn turned from the tormented wheezes of Boromir and watched the sky again.

Silently, he vowed to the Valar that, with their blessing, he would find Arwen soon. And when he did, he would let nothing separate them once more. He looked down at the brooch on his cape and watched the green stone shine with an ethereal light under the moon. He covered it with his hand and at the same time repeated the silent promise, this time making the vow to Arwen.

"I know I shouldn't say…" the dwarf began and pulled the ranger from his somber thoughts. "But I think it is time to voice out loud the worries we have so far refused to speak. I mean you no harm by my words, Aragorn, but truth is we do not know if the Lady Undómiel is still alive. I have considered every option as to why they took her along with the hobbits, but the only one that makes sense is if they did it for their own sick, twisted pleasure. She is strong... but they might have killed her already. And if they have not yet, there is a strong possibility that they are trying to break her spirits in every way they know how. When we find them, she might not be the same elf anymore..."

"Don't be cynical, Gimli," Aragorn said and his voice carried a strong warning tone.

"I am sorry, Aragorn," the dwarf replied and lowered his eyes to the fire once more. "I just want us to keep an open mind because we have to remember the possibilities. The hobbits will for sure be alive because of the Ring. But the lady…"

Aragorn turned his angry eyes to glare at the dwarf by the fire. When he saw Gimli's sad face, however, the ranger's rising fury deflated and was replaced by the shared grief of the evening.

"I know she is not dead, Gimli," Aragorn promised.

"How?" Boromir inquired as he and Legolas turned to watch their leader.

"Simply because of two reasons," the man replied and turned his gaze to the night sky again. "One: If she would be dead we would have found her dead body by now," Aragorn then held out the pendant around his neck for the others to see, the gem sparkled even in the dark. "Second… The Evenstar still shines bright. No, Gimli, I know she is not dead. If she was, I would know it."

* * *

Elsewhere, Arwen suppressed an agonized moan. She had now enjoyed the 'hospitality' of the Uruk-hais for two long days with seemingly no end.

They treated her and the two hobbits like nothing more than simple objects; loathed and degraded. The arrow still protruded from her back and she detested the dark creatures even more for leaving it where it was. She wished they would pull it out and let her be free of her pain, but of course knew is was useless to even think such thoughts. The Uruks loved to torture her long and often by twisting the arrow in her back or trample her onto the ground whenever the spirit moved them.

She glanced up at Merry and Pippin, who were carried on the backs of two Uruks further up the line. Arwen had been deemed too heavy to be carried and they had instead tied her hands behind her back and dragged her behind them with a long rope around her neck. The degrading action made the elf feel like herded cattle. As she walked, she glared up at the Uruk who held her rope, but then cried out in pain as another Uruk twisted the arrow in her back.

"That will teach you to glare at one of us, wench!" the Uruk growled and than joined in the others roaring laughter.

A few rows up ahead, Merry and Pippin strained to look back at her from the backs of their captors and worry shone bright in their frightened eyes. Even from the distance, she could feel their futile desire to help.

Suddenly the group of Uruks stopped and Arwen felt a desperate twinge of hope that they were _finally_ going to take a short break. Her hope was rewarded as the new leader growled, "We take a break. Eat. Rest. You three, make sure we're not being followed! Go. NOW!"

A few of the Uruks disappeared in the dark of the night to check their surroundings and Merry and Pippin were discarded on to the ground. Arwen was pushed down by their side and managed a tight smile up at them. To pretend to be strong was all she could offer them now, and they seemed to share her sentiment as they in turn smiled back.

"You two should get some rest," she said gently. "I'll watch over you, I will make sure they do not harm you."

Both hobbits shook their heads. Merry spoke, "Believe it or not, we've already slept a little out of sheer exhaustion. At least, the few minutes they gave us before they shook us awake again..."

"Don't worry," Arwen smiled again. "Aragorn will come for us, he will save us."

"I hope you are right, milady," Pippin said and eyed her warily. "How are you doing? Does it hurt much?"

Arwen shook her head. "It is merely a scratch. It stings a little, that is all."

"You are lying," Merry said and looked around, no Uruk seemed to be watching them. "Do you want us to help you?"

"Please," the elf admitted with a relieved smile. "Pull it out if you can, I know your hands are tied as well, but I cannot get it out without your assistance."

Merry crawled closer but Pippin whispered urgently, "But the wound will only open up a new!"

"Yes," Arwen affirmed. "But it's the only way. I can survive an arrow wound like a strong soldier can. My elven blood will help me heal, it will not bleed for long once the arrow is out."

Merry nodded and the elf lay face-down on the grass-covered ground. The hobbit sat up on his knees and grimaced down at the clotted blood around the wound on Arwen's back. The two hobbits exchanged a look as Pippin tried to keep the maiden calm by stroking her hair slowly. Merry turned his attention back to the arrow and started tugging on it, which proved a rather difficult task with his hands tied together. Arwen's face contorted in agony and Pippin urged her to remain quiet.

Just as Merry completed his task, a frail sound of pain escaped past the elf's lips. It was small, but loud enough to get the attention of the leader Uruk who swiftly turned their way.

"What are you Halflings doing?" he called fiercely.

Before either Merry or Pippin could escape, they were surrounded by the Uruks and pulled from the ground. Merry quickly dropped the arrow and it landed in the grass next to Arwen. The leader pushed its way to the front and glared down at the discarded arrow and then at Arwen before stomping down hard on the now open wound, The maiden cried out as sheer pain surged through her body like thunder from the skies.

The Uruk bent down and picked up the arrow before he turned his sneering glare at Merry. "Have we not warned you about helping the elf?"

"It was my fault!" Arwen breathed and though her voice was weak she managed a stern glare up at her captors. "I asked them to."

The Uruk pressed down harder on her wound and growled, "Do not worry, elf. You will get what you deserve."

He then turned back to Merry and took a firm hold on his jaw before growling, "You will _not_ disobey us again."

With those words, he struck the hobbit hard across the face and Merry fell unconscious with a nasty cut visible above his eyebrow.

"_Merry_!" Pippin shouted in alarm and the Uruk turned to him instead.

"Do you want a piece of that too?" it snarled and Pippin could only watch him in fear. The Uruk smirked, threw the arrow further into the night and shouted, "We move! We've had a long enough break!"

Merry and Pippin were once again thrown onto the backs of two Uruk-hais while the leader bent down to Arwen and snarled at her when she looked up at him.

"What do you want with us?" she managed as he pulled her up to her knees.

"You already know what we want with the Halflings," he growled, albeit in a lower voice. "What we want with you is a different matter. We're not allowed to do as we wish with the small ones. _You_, however, we can do what we want to. You filthy elf will not make it long if I have a say in it."

"You will not break me," Arwen hissed as he pulled at the rope around her neck, forcing her to a full stand. He strode briskly forward and held tight onto the rope, forcing the elf to walk in his speed.

"Everybody breaks with time, elf," the Uruk snarled with strange sadism in his dark voice as the elf stumbled to keep up. "Remember, no one will come to your rescue now. You are all alone, and you will die with the lone thought that you were no help to your little friends. Consider it a merciful gesture, we will kill you before you will have to see the world fall into ruin."

"You are wrong," Arwen replied with a scornful smile. "I still have hope. I still have _estel_."

"Don't speak in that tongue to me!" the Uruk shouted and picked up his speed.

Arwen followed suit but turned her eyes up to gaze at the sparkling stars and a small smile played at the corner of her lips.

* * *

Pippin yawned as he bumped up and down on the Uruk's back and looked ahead at the sun that had now climbed high onto the sky. Though it shone bright above, it seemed to offer no warmth in these foreign lands filled with vast fields in every direction the hobbit gazed.

He felt lost in every sense of the word and not only as to where in the world he was now. He felt he had no knowledge of anything as it was. He had no idea what had happened to the others in his fellowship. For all he knew (and dreaded inside), the others had failed and died in the forest when the Uruks had attacked. Still, Pippin couldn't let himself believe that. He knew Arwen had found strength and faith anew even as his own was waning.

He couldn't help but wonder what the Uruks wanted with him and Merry, questions they refused to answer. What purpose could all this possibly serve? Who was their master and where were they being taken? Pippin felt his head spin with all the questions he'd been confronted with these past few days and still lacked the answer for.

Suddenly the Uruk-hai stopped their impossibly fast march and Pippin frowned. He wondered what could possible have made them stop in broad daylight. His question was soon answered as a group of Orcs jumped out from a hiding place behind a few boulders on the plain.

Pippin turned from the conversation between the Uruks and Orcs and focused on Merry who travelled on an Uruk nearby. His friend was still unconscious from the injury he had received previously and that fact troubled Pippin. He glanced ahead and noticed an Orc move up to Arwen. Pippin didn't much like the malicious grin on its face as it noticed the wound on her back. An Uruk stopped the Orc however, professing she was theirs to torture and Pippin just couldn't listen to any of it anymore.

He turned his gaze backwards and stared across the plains, hoping to see Strider suddenly barge over the hill with the others to rescue them. But none came, no one was coming to help them.

* * *

The fair-haired woman ran along the dusty road, holding up the hem of her long green dress as to keep from tripping over it. Her hair blew around her thin frame with the strong winds as she hurried down the road. She rushed past a few villagers as she felt her panic rise within her chest. She hardly noticed the confused looks from the people who saw her storm by, for her mind was focused on one sole thing.

Even the mere thought of it brought tears to her eyes. As she reached the strong gates of her city, she hurried through the open gateway and turned north.

Her eyes scanned the horizon and her heart fell in her chest as her eyes saw them. Far away, seeming only like small specks from this distance, were her brother and his company of soldiers. She had learned too late of his expulsion by Grima. Her brother had left without her and without as much of a word of goodbye, and though she could partly understand the reasons why, it pained her still. She knew it was hard on him, too, if not harder, to see their uncle diminished and waning before their eyes dayly. To be shunned by their uncle's right hand without his aid was a hard blow indeed.

She stopped on the grassy slope with nothing but despair in her heart as their distance grew.

"Éomer!" she called but her voice didn't carry over the strong wind. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, he was too far gone from her now.

Her shoulders slumped and the light in her ocean colored eyes faded even more than before. A single tear rolled down her fair cheek and eventually stained her dress.

She remained on the slope, watching the riders until they finally disappeared from her sight and was gone. She drew a shuddering breath to reclaim some strength, but only felt the pressure of reality consume her heart even more.

The only one she had in her life these days, the only one she had been able to talk to and confide in... was gone. She knew why. Earlier that very day, she had seen Éomer roughly handle Grima, the king's counselor. Even then she hadn't thought Grima's influence over her uncle and king would lead to this end. She had not thought it would lead to her being alone in Edoras.

All of this only proved that Grima, the worthless snake, was not to be trusted, irregardless to his role by the king's side. Her uncle, king Théoden, was bewitched by a magic she could not comprehend and she worried that his counselor only used his influence to do further damage to an already broken mind.

She remembered vividly the apathy in her uncle's clouded eyes when she had regaled him with the news of his wounded son. Théoden had barely reacted at all and Éowyn had only been assured that she had lost him too. Oh, she wished Théodred was not injured, but he lay for death without his father by his side to mourn for him.

She was powerless to do anything to help either her uncle or her people. She only wished she could find some small measure of hope in the darkness that surrounded her already. She wished someone would come to Rohan's aid, for that was what they needed more than anything. To be saved, from the evil that was overpowering them all. As it was now, the maiden held little hope of things ever getting better if no one came for them.

Silently the fair maiden, Éowyn, stood outside the walls with an ever watchful gaze on the horizon.

* * *

Come nightfall the Orcs and Uruks stopped again and at last their oft spoken request of a full nights rest, for they had thus far not received any such lenience, was granted. The group set up camp on a field nearby the forest of Fangorn, where they hoped they would find shelter for the night. The trees stood tall and silent as the foul creatures stopped by its outer boundaries.

As they got settled, Merry and Pippin were thrown onto the ground once more and the latter crawled over to his friend. Pippin urgently attempted to shake him awake.

At last, Merry drowsily opened his eyes. They were hazy with pain and confusion but cleared when they settled on his friend. "...Pip?"

Pippin positively beamed down at him, "You're alive! I was so worried when I couldn't wake you…"

"You know me, Pip," Merry whispered and tenderly touched the wound above his brow. It was a rather nasty gash and still stung and Merry hissed. "You won't get rid of me that easily. …Where are we?"

"By some forest. They're finally resting for a whole night," Pippin explained and looked around to see if the Uruks and Orcs were paying them any attention. Thankfully, they were not. "We'll be safe. I hope."

"Good," Merry muttered. "_Good_."

Some of the Uruks ran into the woods to chop some firewood and Pippin looked up as he suddenly heard weird echoes in the deep of the night that reminded him of pained wails. He was about to ask about it when suddenly he noticed an Orc eyed him weirdly.

"Stay down, Merry," Pippin whispered as the Orc came up to them. It reached out a long, thin finger and poked at the hobbit's arm.

"What's so special about you?" the Orc spat in contempt.

"Leave us alone, we've done nothing to you," Pippin said.

"Leave them!" the leader Uruk said and stepped over to them. "They are not to be toyed with."

"Oh, come on! What use could _they _possible be to our masters?" the Orc squealed. "Let me plunge my dagger into him, just once."

The Uruk growled threateningly but suddenly the Orc cried out and fell dead to the ground, an elvish dagger stuck out from its stomach. Pippin turned around to see where the dagger had come from and saw Arwen a few feet away, her hands were no longer tied but the ropes lay discarded by her side as she stood to face her foes. All the Orcs and Uruks turned around to watch and when they saw the elf, silence descended at once.

"Leave them alone," Arwen breathed.

"How did you get loose?" the leader Uruk growled and menacingly bared his teeth as he did.

Arwen smiled, "Elven magic."

The Uruk drew its sword and walked towards the elf, leaving Merry and Pippin to their own business. The other Uruks and Orcs cheered the Uruk leader on with loud growls and Pippin immediately looked about him for anything to hinder it. His desperate search was interrupted by another Orc who stepped over the one who had earlier wanted to stab him. The Orc hovered over him and Pippin gazed at in in frantic fear when it put its foot atop of him and held him down against the ground.

"No one's going to save you, squeal all you want. You're mine now!"

Whatever the Orc had planned on doing next went undone as a spear suddenly flew across the field with no warning and hit the creature in the middle of its chest. It groaned in pain before it fell dead to the ground. Pippin gazed at it with wide eyes before recollecting himself enough to remember his whereabouts. In the dark of the night he could see strange men on tall horses around them, they wore strange helmets and Pippin was sure he had never seen them before. Whoever they were, he was grateful as they rode around killing the Orcs and Uruks with unfaltering rage.

Pippin whipped his head in Merry's direction, the other hobbit still seemed a bit hazy from his injury. He still managed to urge them both to escape their vulnerable point in the middle of the battle. Together the hobbits looked around for Arwen but she seemed to have disappeared in the night.

The thunderous roars of the horses' hooves echoed across the field and the two hobbits soon got caught up in trying to avoid being trampled to the ground. Pippin noticed a discarded axe, urged Merry to stay low and crawled over to it. He swiftly cut off his rope and then returned to free Merry as well. The two hobbits stood from the ground, but quickly threw themselves down as several spears were thrown over their heads at the Orcs and Uruk-hai.

"Who are they?" Pippin managed and felt his heart beat furiously in his chest.

"I don't know, but we had better get out of here," Merry urged and together they ran towards the side of the battle.

Suddenly a hand landed on Pippin's shoulder and he couldn't stop his cry of alarm but another hand covered his mouth and quieted the sound. A familiar voice whispered into his ear, "Silence, friend!"

"Arwen?" he asked and his voice came out muffled against her hand.

"Cover yourselves with your cloaks, they will offer some protection as we escape," the elf maiden whispered and the two hobbits quickly pulled up the hoods of their cloaks as they had been instructed.

"Who are they?" Pippin repeated his question to the elf, hoping she would at last be able to provide some answers.

"Riders of Rohan. They are on a quest to kill these dark creatures," she explained as they ducked low in the cover of the night.

"Can't we ask them for help?"

Arwen shook her head as she gazed at the mad fight before her. Though the riders attacks were organized in their attacks, they were also blinded by their lust for blood. "In this dark they will not see friend from foe, they are driven by hate and will not stop until that drive is extinguished. We must take cover elsewhere."

"Into the forest!" Merry suggested and together they sprinted towards the dark edge of the large forest.

Arwen started to untie her right gauntlet and dropped it on the ground as she ran. She glanced back at it and saw it get trampled into the mud in the heat of the battle. She disliked having to discard the gift Aragorn had given her, but it was the only thing she could think of at the moment to send him a message.

Further ahead, Merry and Pippin ducked beneath a horse but without being noticed by the rider atop of it. As the two rushed on, Merry suddenly felt something hinder his speed and hold him in place by his belt. Without hesitation, he unbuckled it and managed to kick the Orc, who now only held the belt in his hand, before he scrambled on.

Pippin waited until his friend caught up to him and together they rushed to Arwen's side. The edge of the forest was not far now and they set a straight course for it. They were at the outskirts of the battle and so there was no risk of being killed by friendly fire anymore. They had managed to get away.

At the beginning of the treeline, Arwen unlaced her second gauntlet and threw it to the ground.

Unaware of their pursuer, Arwen, Merry and Pippin entered Fangorn Forest.


	14. Fangorn Forest

**14. Fangorn Forest**

Merry ran first through the woods, Pippin close behind him and Arwen brought up the rear.

The darkness of the night obscured Merry's vision slightly, and he had to be watchful not to trip over any of the plentiful long roots that lay all across the forest floor. The hobbit feared that even though they had managed to get away from their dangerous captors, they had only run into the darkness that existed in this strange forest. Merry sensed the anger and fear in the growing trees and he remembered vividly the tales he had heard as a wee hobbit of the tree-herders. If the stories were true he only hoped that no tree had a desire to hurt him, Pippin or Arwen.

A creaking noise was heard in the distance among the trees and Merry heard Pippin's frightful voice behind him, "What was that noise? I heard it earlier too, what is it?"

"I believe it is the Ents," Arwen breathed and urged the two hobbits to move swifter still. Though they had come a far distance from the field, she still wanted to cover more ground before she felt safe.

"Ents?" Pippin asked.

"Tree herders," Merry filled in. A part of him found the idea of Ents, or tree-herders, to be an interesting notion, but another part of him told him that such notions were best saved for a safer time. Now he must only concentrate on his own labored breathing and on the fact that his head felt like it would crack open where he had been hurt before.

The trio ran through low bushes and ducked under branches while always attempting to listen for any hunters on their trail.

Merry ran into a clearing among the giant trees and stopped. Pippin crashed into him but the two managed to regain their balance before toppling over. The elf came to a halt beside them, too, and all three looked in the direction they had just come from. All the sounds of the forest suddenly silenced around them as if in waiting of something to come.

"Are we safe?" Merry whispered to Arwen.

The elf maiden was silent as she tried to sense anything. Eventually she turned back to the hobbits, grasped their small hands and began to run through the foliage once more.

"Hurry!" she whispered and willed their steps to increase in speed.

"What is it? What is wrong?" Pippin asked with fear evident in his voice as he stumbled after her.

"There are Uruks on our trail," she explained shortly. "Come now, let's cover more ground before we rest."

They ran for over an hour more, until the moon was at its highest peak, before finally stopping to a much needed break. The hobbits fell exhausted to the forest floor and Arwen leaned against a tree by their side. There was a seldom seen grimace of pain across her fair features, which did not go unnoticed by the hobbits.

"How is your wound?" asked Merry, under the light of the pale moon he could see fresh blood gleam on her back.

"Better," Arwen said. "Or at least it would be if they hadn't kept ripping it open every time it stopped bleeding. It still stings, but it is nothing to worry about."

Merry shot up from the ground just after she had finished talking for further away he could make out two shadows moving their way, brutally disturbing the forest as they did. The two Uruks growled loudly and Merry recognized one of them as the leader of the Uruk pack, the same which had given him his nasty wound. He gulped and pointed out their enemies with a shaking hand, while a feeble plan formed in his head. He pointed to a robust tree not far away and with Arwen and Pippin, ran behind it to get some needed cover.

"You cannot hide from me!" the Uruk-leader called loudly into the night.

Merry closed his eyes tight. He was unsure if this meant that the Uruk had already seen them, too. If so, there seemed to be nowhere they could run now. He so desperately wished for this chase to be over, for he longed to feel safe again if even just for a moment.

By his side, Arwen made a quick decision. She pushed away from the tree and looked down at her short friends. "_Run_! I will stall them."

"But you've lost your weapons! And we have no weapons for you to borrow," Pippin whispered. "You have nothing to defend yourself with!"

"I will think of something!" she said and then pushed them away from the trunk of the tree. "Go! Now! You will have no other chance!"

"We won't leave you!" Merry assured.

"If you want to live then you must," Arwen said as she picked up a thick branch from the ground. Without further ado, the elf ran out from behind the tree.

Instead of doing as they had been told, Merry ushered Pippin to climb up the tree and so the two hobbits did. They climbed up high and gazed down through the branches. They could see Arwen's figure below, ready to fight with her poor, makeshift weapon. The Uruks had obviously noticed her for they were running towards her with their own crooked swords drawn.

"She will never make it!" Pippin whispered in fear as his gaze fell on the sharp weapons.

Merry didn't reply but looked around him to find anything that could help the elf. Before he could find any such item, the Uruks reached Arwen and swung their blades at her. She ducked with great speed and swung the branch at one of them. She ducked again as the Uruk leader swung its sword close to her frame. The other creature ran forward to engage her in a fight as she kept backing away in defense. Behind her, the Uruk leader walked slowly around the battle, keeping its determined glare on the elf. As it came to stand right beneath them, Merry inhaled sharply and jumped from the tree.

"_Merry_!" Pippin shouted from above as the hobbit landed on the Uruk's head and brought them both to the ground. The Uruk dropped its sword and Merry kicked it towards Arwen who gratefully took it up and swung it at the other enemy.

Meanwhile, Pippin who had thought he was alone in the tree suddenly found himself facing quite the surprise. Shocked beyond belief he tried to move away from the trunk and ended up falling out of the tree. He never hit the ground below, however, for he was caught before that.

The Uruk leader turned Merry over on his back then and the hobbit looked up in fear. His attention was not on the dark creature but rather on the scene behind it. Up above, he saw Pippin dangling in the air held in place by a branch with fingers. Merry gasped as he realized the truth. It had not been a tree which they had climbed, but rather a slumbering Ent.

At the same time, Arwen had killed the first Uruk and turned around just as the Ent rose tall from the ground, stretching higher indeed than most trees in its vicinity. Two big, yellow eyes shone from the Ents bark-like face, looking from Pippin to the Uruk leader on the ground. With a creaking sound it slowly lifted its foot and squished the Uruk to the ground. Merry and Arwen exchanged a look as the Ent stepped over to them and inspected them closely.

"Run!" Pippin shouted.

Merry was about to when Arwen shot out an arm to stop him.

"Don't!" she whispered.

Merry felt his panic rise within his chest and all his instincts told him to run from this magnificent, tree-like beast. His feet were anchored to the spot however by the words of the elf. He glanced up at the her, hoping she would defend them now with the Uruk-sword. He was surprised when she instead lowered the blade to her side.

The Ent blinked down at her and then bent to have a closer look at Merry. With its second hand, the Ent suddenly lifted the hobbit from the ground and held him up beside Pippin.

"Do something!" Pippin pleaded and looked down at Arwen who merely shook her head.

"I will not hurt a sacred shepherd of the forest," she said while she stood her ground. Their was mutual respect between the Ents and the Elves and she would not do anything to weaken that alliance. She felt it was clear that the Ent had no intent on doing anything towards her either. "And I believe he will not hurt you."

The Ent said nothing about her remark but slowly turned and gazed ahead. It began taking long, slow strides between the trees in the night and Arwen followed behind as they walked further into the woods.

"Ent! Let us down!" Merry called, and then meekly added, "…please?"

"Why…" the Ent said and his voice rumbled slow and outdrawn, "…should I, protector of Fangorn, put you Orcs down? Bu-ra-rum!"

"We aren't Orcs!" Pippin assured while trying to escape from the Ent's grip but failed miserably.

"We are Hobbits, from the Shire!" Merry added.

"Hobbits?" the Ent asked thoughtfully. "I have never heard of a Hobbit before…"

"We are not your enemies," Arwen promised and her voice remained calm despite the situation. "They are who they say they are, put them down, please! We have done you no harm!"

"Harm?" the Ent asked. "You come into my forest, _elleth_, brandishing the weapon of the Uruks, accompanied by two of them, and you ask me to trust you?"

The Ent squished harder around the waists of the hobbits and Arwen saw Merry's and Pippin's pained expressions. She immediately changed tactics, "What is your name, Ent?"

"Treebeard some call me," he said.

"And whose side are you one?" Pippin asked cautiously as Treebeard eased his grip on them by a fraction.

The big, yellow eyes looked down at the hobbit in confusion. "Side? I am on nobody's side, because nobody is on my side, little Orcs. Nobody cares for the woods anymore."

"We do!" Merry said quickly.

"Orcs do not care," Treebeard repeated slowly.

"But we've already told you, we aren't Orcs!" Merry said. "Back home, in the Shire, we have flourishing forests and we take good care of our nature. Don't we, Pip?"

"It's true!"

Treebeard walked silently for a few minutes, before he said, "I cannot believe you, bum-bah-rum. But I will not judge you before you have met the one who can."

"What is he talking about?" Pippin asked and tried to glance down at Arwen.

Even from above and in the dark, he could see that her silvery eyes were distant and there was a small frown on her brow. Whatever calm she had thus held seemed replaced for he also noticed how the grip around her sword firmed and her steps, too, became stealthier.

"Arwen? Is something wrong?" Pippin asked.

Without looking up, she explained, "There is a presence nearby. It is vaguely familiar but I cannot make out who it is... However I fear we shall soon find out."

"You are most accurate, elleth," Treebeard said and nodded slowly. "I am taking you to meet the White Wizard, he will judge you for who you are. He will tell me the truth."

"The White wizard?" Pippin whispered in fear and looked over at Merry.

"_Saruman_..." the other hobbit whispered back as grim fear spread through his short body.

Shortly after, Treebeard stopped abruptly and dropped the hobbits. They fell onto the ground and landed hard among the leaves and roots. Slowly both of them turned their heads to look upwards. A white, blinding light illuminated the dark forest before them and Arwen swiftly leaped in front of the hobbits to protect them. She raised her blade and waited.

She couldn't see the wizard's face because of the shining light, which indeed seemed brighter than a star, but she was prepared to meet this foe in combat if she would have to. Suddenly the wizard lifted his arm and Arwen felt the sword burn hot in her hand. She was forced to drop it to the ground as it got too hot.

"Leave us be, Saruman!" she hissed in a fierce voice.

"I am not Saruman," the White Wizard spoke and slowly the radiant light diminished and the wizard stepped forward.

The hobbits gasped up at the figure and Arwen frowned up at the familiar man. "Gandalf...?"

Gandalf stepped up to her side and smiled at them at them all with warmth and kindness. Everything about the former wizard had turned white, his hair, his beard, his robes and even his grand staff. The wizard who had fallen in Moria had returned to them but he was no longer the Grey Pilgrim.

"What is going on here?" Pippin questioned as he pushed himself up from the ground. Merry sat dumbstruck and looked up at the wizard in silence.

"How could this be?" Arwen breathed.

Gandalf glanced at the elf before turning to Pippin. With a smile he said, "Do not worry, Peregrin. For it is still I."

"But you… you died…" Merry finally managed and slowly stood to join the others. "This is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible these days, my young hobbit," Gandalf said and the others saw the recognizable twinkle in the wizard's eyes. Somehow, it made it more real. For a few minutes, they all remained silent. Arwen, Merry and Pippin found they were too shocked to speak. When they last had seen him, their hearts had been broken when he had fallen into a fiery grave. Or so they had thought...

"But why?" Merry asked.

"I have returned so that I may do what I was meant to do all along," the White Wizard explained.

"Which would be…?" Pippin asked.

"To help the race of Men."

Arwen hurriedly stepped forward and hope shone in her pale eyes. "Aragorn?"

"Yes, that is one reason. I have returned to help Aragorn," Gandalf nodded.

"_Frodo_!" Merry breathed suddenly. "I am not sure what you know, Gandalf, but you need to be informed about Frodo. Last we saw him, he was heading to complete his quest, he was heading to Mordor. And… Boromir has fallen."

"We do not know that," Pippin argued and a weak beacon of hope was evident in his frail voice.

"Do you honestly believe he is still alive?" Merry questioned and Pippin lowered his gaze. The latter shrugged and shook his head.

"Leave your concerns for now, hobbits," Gandalf said. "For the time has come for all of you to go."

"Go?" Merry asked.

"We cannot leave you!" Pippin said loudly and looked up at the wizard. "Not so soon! You've only just returned to us, we cannot leave you so soon! Not again!"

"You have a new task upon you," the wizard explained in a calm voice. "You must stay with Treebeard in the forest of Fangorn, and do what is right for us all."

"What does that mean?" Merry asked but the wizard turned to look up at the Ent by their side.

"Treebeard," Gandalf said. "I want you to trust them. Take care of the hobbits, Treebeard. They are nothing less than what they have told you. Meriadoc and Peregrin do not lie, and they are clever… in their own way." He winked at the hobbits before turning in the elf's direction, "Trust Arwen Evenstar as well, for she will be of great aid when the time calls for it. Trust her wisdom, Fangorn."

Treebeard hummed in agreement and bowed his head in acceptance of the wizard's words.

"Can you not stay with us?" Merry asked.

"I must wait for your pursuers," Gandalf said.

The hobbits eyes widened almost in unison. Pippin managed, "So Strider _is_ coming? He really is trying to save us?"

Gandalf chuckled, "Of course. You did not believe otherwise did you?"

Arwen smiled and breathed, "Never."

"Go now, my friends," said Gandalf.

Treebeard bent down to pick up Merry and Pippin, but before he could the two hobbits ran up and threw their arms around Gandalf in a tight embrace. The wizard seemed surprised at first but patted their heads affectionately. Merry and Pippin stepped back again. They let Treebeard lift them up and place them on a couple of his shoulder branches.

"Leave your concerns," Gandalf repeated to the hobbits. "When the time comes, I will return for you."

Treebeard bowed his head to Gandalf in a silent farewell before he around and walked away.

Arwen picked up her Uruk blade and moved to follow the Ent but stopped herself. After a moments pause she turned and walked right up to the wizard. She gazed up at him with pleading eyes and he smiled warmly as he read her silent plea in her gaze.

"Can I not wait with you?" she asked. "The hobbits will be safe with Treebeard. Can I not come with you?"

Gandalf shook his head and the sparkle in his eyes diminished momentarily as he grimly commented, "Stay with the hobbits, Undómiel. It is best if you do."

"What do you mean?" She frowned back at him but he shook his head. Whatever it was, he was not going to tell her. She didn't know why, but the thought scared her. "I know you, Mithrandir. There is something you are keeping hidden. Why can you not tell me what it is?"

Gandalf placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. "I will not burden you with my knowledge at this time, you will know it all eventually. For now, you must remain patient. It is time you go with Treebeard."

"But Estel…" she whispered pleadingly.

"Go now, Arwen," Gandalf said with a smile that made it clear he was done talking. The time had come for them to part once more.

The elf sighed and reluctantly turned to walk in Treebeard's footsteps. She stopped once more and gazed behind her at the wizard. "Can you at least give him a message from me?"


	15. Change of Plans

**15. Change of Plans**

Aragorn's feet basically flew across the open plains as he willed himself to run faster. He had never run this fast over such a distance before, but he still feared it would not be enough. He was running against a clock that was steadily ticking in their disadvantage and he had no idea how to change that.

Boromir's wound had made their small hunting party lose even more time now and Aragorn had, judging by the tracks, estimated they were more than a day behind the Uruks now. Two days ago, he had been unable to sense the scent of them, now Legolas could no longer see their forms on the distant horizon.

Every now and then the ranger glanced behind to see if the others were still close on his tail. Even in his heart he knew it did not matter, for he would hunt down the Uruks on his own if he had to. As it was, the blond elf was not far behind.

"Aragorn!" the elf shouted but the ranger didn't heed. Legolas tried again, "Aragorn, look to the sun!"

The man turned to the rising sun that shone like blood upon the heavens. He grimaced and sighed deeply before increasing his speed.

"A red sunrise can only mean one thing," Legolas called, and Aragorn knew exactly what the elf meant. Blood had spilt the previous night. A fear ripped his heart that the blood had been Arwen, Merry or Pippin's.

Aragorn shouted back to the elf, "Tell Gimli and Boromir to speed up!"

The elf did as instructed and a few silent seconds passed in which the two men ran side by side. From the corner of his eye, Aragorn suddenly noticed how the elf stopped and knelt to the ground.

"Aragorn!" the elf called again.

Aragorn sighed in agitation and stopped to turn back. An agitated question burned in his eyes, could they not hurry up instead of dawdling further? The blond elf looked up and the ranger could clearly see a worried frown upon his brow.

"What is it?" Aragorn called.

The elf picked up something dark from the ground and stood tall. Aragorn froze as he saw the thin object in the elf's pale hands. It was a black arrow. Without hesitation, the ranger hurried back to his friend's side to have a closer look. He pulled the arrow from Legolas's hands and inspected the tip. Less than two inches of the arrow's tip was covered in dried blood.

With a solemn tone the elf said the words Aragorn had dreaded, "It is elven blood."

Aragorn felt his heart constrict and had trouble breathing for a minute as he blinked back tears that threatened to spill over his well worn mask of strength.

Right at that moment, Gimli came tumbling out from behind a cliff behind them. The dwarf pushed himself from the grass, breathing heavily, and jogged over to the other two.

"I am merely pretending," he managed between breaths. "I... I can beat you _any_ given day at running, but someone in our group has to make sure Boromir is still with us. I'm taking one for the team here, letting you have all the fun." He then spotted the arrow and muttered a low, "…Oh."

Boromir wasn't far behind the dwarf and soon came round the cliff to join their side. The man's face was pale and his breathing seemed pained but still he ran without complaining.

Aragorn hadn't even noticed the others arrive but when he finally turned his gaze from the arrow to look at the others, he seemed not surprised to find them all there.

"Come now," he said and his voice remained stiff. "We have lost a lot of time; we must be swift to regain it. _Hurry_!"

With those words the ranger sped away in full speed as he returned to following the Uruks' trail. The other three followed not far behind. All of their strength and stamina seemed to have had a dramatic increase as they tried to keep up with the worried ranger.

* * *

By midday they stopped for a breather upon a few high cliffs. Aragorn stood on the top and looked out at the vast landscapes before them of billowing hills and plains as far as the eye could see. He asked the elf if he could see the Uruks but Legolas shook his head sadly.

"They could be heading anywhere," Legolas sighed.

"No," Aragorn shook his head. "They have moved north since the start of our chase and so they are obviously not heading into Sauron's realm. They bore the white mark of Saruman, and I believe their goal is somewhere in these lands."

"Isengard?" Gimli suggested with a small shrug. Aragorn simply nodded.

The ranger turned to look at the plains once more, "We are in the lands of Rohan, home of the Horse-Lords. The Uruks have moved in such great speed I feel that they draw strength from an unspoken darkness in these lands. I feel no light here, only shadow. If Saruman has control over these lands than his power has grown. He must be deep in the enemies council. With all probability, he is trying to form an alliance between the tower of Orthanc and the black tower of Mordor. If he is to succeed, none will be able to foretell the future of Middle Earth."

"If that is his plan... why not send the hobbits to Mordor instead of his own tower?" the dwarf questioned.

The ranger could simply shrug in response. "I do not pretend to understand the workings of a wizard's mind."

The others stood silently behind Aragorn. The ranger turned to them and seemed to the others to stand tall and kingly as the wind pulled at his cape. With conviction in his voice he said, "After we find Arwen, Merry and Pippin we shall help the World of Men from crumbling. Let us move forward once more."

* * *

They ran for the better part of that day and when the sun began to set on the horizon, Legolas suddenly sped up to the ranger's side and stopped him. Aragorn noticed how the elf's eyes looked far into the distance at something that had his mind perplexed.

"What do you see?" Aragorn whispered hopefully.

"Look. Over there," Legolas pointed northeast.

Aragorn's eyes travelled to the direction given and he saw the edges of Fangorn forest further away. It was too far away for him to be able to make out any details but his sharp eyes made out the form of a large, black mass by the forest.

"What is that?" Aragorn asked.

"A burned pile of dead Uruks..." Legolas said and hesitantly gazed at Aragorn.

Without another word, the ranger sprinted towards it. His heart beat furiously in his chest and he wished someone could tell him what had happened, if it was the same Uruks that they were tracking. If it was, where were Arwen and the hobbits? He silently prayed they were not among the carcasses.

Legolas, Gimli and Boromir followed him as he ran through the twilight. Aragorn finally reached the tall, grand pile and was met by the gruesome stench of burnt flesh. An Uruk head was impaled on a stake by its side and Aragorn grimaced up at it, the face bore the mark of Saruman. The ranger swiftly turned to look around on the ground that was littered by corpses; horses, Men, Uruks and Orcs had all died there recently.

Legolas ran along the edges of the former battle field to look for their friends as Gimli and Boromir ran straight for the burned pile of Uruks and started digging through the ashes and remains of it.

Aragorn lifted a helmet from the ground and inspected it. "Eorlingas," He explained to the others. "The riders of the Mark were here. This was their work." He dropped the helmet once more and returned to seek for clues.

The ranger walked to and fro while shaking his head. Though he knew the probability in the back of his mind, he refused to allow himself to believe that they could be dead. Not the hobbits. _Not Arwen_. Worry consumed his heart at the mere thought of never seeing his beloved again.

Gimli stepped onto the pile of Uruks and swept back and forth with his axe as Legolas ran over to the ranger's side. The elf spoke, "Nothing. Nothing but dead Uruks and discarded weapons on the battle grounds."

The dwarf suddenly did a sharp intake of breath and turned to them. In his hand he held a silvery belt that seemed not to have been touched by the fires, "It's one of their wee belts they received as gifts from the lady Galadriel..."

Aragorn shook his head once more. He turned his gaze down and tried to seek for clues but his mind was reeling. He dared not grasp this reality for the fear of losing himself to it. The others, however, already looked sad as they gave up their search and stood by the burnt pile.

Legolas bowed his head and mournfully said, "_Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath_." (_May they find peace after death_.)

Aragorn's sharp eyes were drawn to something on the ground further ahead. He walked over to it and picked it up with a heavy heart. It was a dark-green gauntlet from the pair he had given to Arwen. A tear finally trickled down his cheek as he held it in his shaking hands. Fury then overtook him and he released all of it at a helmet nearby. He kicked it as far as he could while letting out a pained shout to the heavens above. He felt his power drain and sank down on his knees in defeat. He did not have the strength to make it without her in this world.

"We failed them," Gimli whispered and the others silently agreed.

_I failed you, melamin, _Aragorn thought to himself. He watched the ground and saw imprints of a small body in the soil. "One of the hobbits lay here," he leaned closer to have a look, "... and the other here."

Suddenly his eyes were drawn closer to the tracks as he realized that their small forms had moved away from the location. His head whipped around as he searched for more tracks.

"Wait…" he whispered and the others turned to him. Aragorn lifted a rope from the ground, "Their hands were bound but the ropes were cut off! They moved away, trying to escape from the fight. Look, these are Arwen's prints. She stopped them from running out to the open field… They turned back…"

Aragorn followed the tracks. His gaze flew across the ground as if he reading a book as he told the others what he could see, "The horses were everywhere on the battlefield but our friends managed to go unseen. They must have hid beneath their cloaks. No, wait! Here. Signs of a struggle, this must be where one of the hobbits lost their belt… But they got away. Where were they heading?"

Aragorn followed the three pairs of tracks and looked up as it brought him to the edge of the dark forest. "The tracks lead into Fangorn…"

"Fangorn," Gimli breathed as he stepped over. "What madness led them in there?"

"It matters not, for now we know that they are alive," Boromir said relieved.

Aragorn looked at the ground and frowned, "Let us hope they still are. Here are tracks of two Uruk-hai following them into the woods..."

Something caught the ranger's eye once more and he kneeled by a root, near the entrance of the forest. He sighed regretfully as he pulled out the other gauntlet. It was clear to him now that Arwen had left him a track to ensure him of their safety. Still, Aragorn was unsure whether to be relieved or feel even stronger fear for this new information of their friends. Being more than a day late he knew they would have little chance to help Arwen, Merry and Pippin if the Uruk-hai had caught up to them in the woods.

"Aragorn…" Legolas suddenly called and his voice held a strong tone of warning. Aragorn heard as the elf suddenly pulled out his bow and strung an arrow to it.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked without turning back.

"_Nad no ennas_!" Legolas said. (_Something is out there_.)

Aragorn shot up from the ground and drew his sword as he watched the dark forest before him. Gimli, not sure what was happening, held up his axe and Boromir stood behind them, his own hand resting on the handle of his sword.

"The White Wizard approaches," Legolas whispered.

As the four gazed in between the trees they saw a shimmering light come towards them. As it came closer they could make out that it was a man with a staff heading their way. The light made it impossible for them to see any of the man's features.

"If you do not bring to a halt we will attack you, White Wizard," Aragorn warned with a growl.

"I certainly hope not," the wizard spoke and the ranger thought there was something familiar to the voice.

"If you are holding our friends prisoners we will make you pay for it," Gimli growled.

"I do not think so," the wizard said as he walked towards them. The White Wizard had almost reached the very edge of the forest now.

"Do not cower behind your staff and magic, _show yourself_!" Aragorn cried.

"If that is your wish…" the wizard said and the pale light around him faded. Out from the forest stepped Gandalf.

"_Gandalf_?" Aragorn breathed in shock. His eyes widened and he lowered his weapon as the others did the same. None of them could understand any of it. "It cannot be…"

"You look surprised, Aragorn," Gandalf said. "You did not think you were rid of me so easily, did you?"

"How is this possible?" Boromir asked as he took a step forward to look at the wizard all clad in white.

Upon hearing Boromir's voice, Gandalf turned to the Gondorian in surprise. "_Boromir_? I believed you had fallen. I suppose much is not what it was supposed to be."

The Gondorian frowned and hesitantly managed to ask, "What do you mean?"

"There will be time for deep intellectual talks some other time, Boromir. When that time is upon us I will gladly have them with you. For now, though, we must make haste elsewhere."

Gandalf stepped forward and whistled soundly before the others could question it. The sound of his whistle echoed in the evening far and wide until a response echoed back. The small group turned around as they heard the sound of a neigh and saw a white horse run across the plains towards them. Not far behind it, three darker stallions followed its white leader. The white horse, one of the mearas, was magnificent and almost seemed like a king itself as it swiftly came upon them. The others were breathless in awe as the horses came to a calm halt before the wizard. As an old friend, Gandalf greeted the large, white horse and patted its neck.

"This is Shadowfax, he is an old friend of mine. Together we have encountered a lot."

Boromir stepped forward as he shook his head. "You have yet not answered my question. _How? _... You fell."

The wizard turned from his horse to face the four men. "Yes. Through fire and water. From the lowest of dungeons to the highest peak, I fought the Balrog. Until I at last threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time... Every day seemed as long as a lifetime. But it was not the end. Suddenly, I felt life in me again. I've been sent back to you know, at the turn of the tide, until my task is done. Now let us be swift for you are late. I decided to save us all time by coming here to meet you."

"Save time?" Legolas questioned as he and Aragorn exchanged a confused look.

"Yes, you have lost much time which we must now try to regain. And I am not speaking about your pursuit for your friends."

"Where are they?" Gimli called quickly.

"They are all quite safe, in the hands of an Ent," Gandalf smiled. "And so they shall remain."

"If we leave them now, then all shall have been in vain... Will all of this have been for nothing?" the dwarf asked.

"Oh, nothing is ever in vain, master dwarf. You were never supposed to meet them at this moment in time. Instead, we must make haste to Edoras where the shadow of these lands reside. We are to help the people of Rohan."

"Not before we see Arwen, Merry and Pippin!" Aragorn insisted.

"In due time, Aragorn," Gandalf promised and placed a supportive hand on the ranger's shoulder. "But now we must face a harder and more dangerous quest. Do not worry for Meriadoc, Peregrin and Arwen. They are far safer than what we soon will be. Before you ask - _No_, they cannot come with us. Their part in this war is in Fangorn, not Rohan. At least for the time being."

"What good can they do in the upcoming war if they are to remain inside a forest far from it?" Gimli huffed.

"There is much assistance to be had in these woods that must be awoken if we are to help the rest of our world. No, I am confident that our three friends will prevail in the task that they now must face. Now, let us waste no more time. Get on your horses so that we may journey faster than by foot to regain some of the time that was lost. Hurry!"

Legolas helped Boromir onto one of the horses and then did the same for Gimli. As the elf gracefully jumped atop to sit before the dwarf, the latter loudly protesting the height down to the ground, Aragorn pulled Gandalf to the side.

"Gandalf… Are you sure they are safe? Arwen was wounded by an arrow, and I fear the wound was far from kind. I wish I could see her so that my worries would be satisfied."

"There is no time for that but trust me when I say she is well. The wound was not enough to claim her life," the wizard assured but quickly turned his gaze away.

Aragorn felt there was something the wizard wasn't telling and Gandalf quickly turned back to the ranger with a twinkle in his grey eyes.

"I almost forgot... She asked me to give you a message," Gandalf smiled and the ranger's eyes lit up. "If I remember the words correct she said to tell you: '_Cormamin niuve tenna´ ento lye omenta_'." (_My heart shall weep until next we meet_.)

Aragorn sighed in relief. This meant that she was alive and thought of him too. He had not lost her. A weight was lifted off his chest and he felt some assurance in the matter lift his spirit also. It was not much, but it was enough for now until he could actually meet her.

"Swiftly now!" Gandalf urged as he leaped onto Shadowfax and hurriedly sped off across the plains.

* * *

That night the moon was high in the sky and Aragorn lay on his back watching it. The five of them had stopped to rest a few hours as Gandalf had assured them they would reach Edoras the morning after, but sleep would not find the ranger as he absently caressed the Evenstar. Something shifted in the dark and the ranger looked over to the side and saw the wizard move through the darkness and sit down upon a rock further away.

With a sigh, Aragorn rose from the ground and walked over to join the old man. Gandalf's eyes were ever watching the eastern horizon and he glanced quickly in the ranger's direction before he explained to him of the shadow in the east. Aragorn listened and took in his words when suddenly the wizard turned and placed a friendly hand on the ranger's arm.

"Sauron fears you, Aragorn," Gandalf said and the ranger's blue eyes shot up to meet the wizard's. "He fears what you may become. And so he will strike hard and fast on the world of Men."

The wizard opened his mouth to speak further but Aragorn interrupted him, "There is something you are hiding from me. Something which concerns me. What are you keeping hidden?"

Gandalf chuckled slightly as he lit his pipe and watched the smoke tendrils swirl, "Undómiel asked me the same thing."

The ranger frowned. "And what did you answer?"

"Oh, I did not tell her,..." Gandalf said with a swift smile.

When he offered no further explanation, Aragorn inquired, "It concerns her too, does it not?"

The wizard looked down at his pipe. It seemed he was internally weighing the pros and cons of admitting anything to the ranger and Aragorn could not understand it. At last, Gandalf nodded. "Though Sauron is not above fear, he also knows how to inflict it. He is no fool, he has great knowledge of you, Aragorn. He knows she is your weakness."

"Is that why she was taken with the hobbits?" Aragorn asked but Gandalf shook his head.

"No, no. The Uruks took her to satisfy their desire for torture. They hate elves and know that torture is far beyond the terrors of death for them. The hobbits were their main target of course," Gandalf turned to Aragorn. "I suppose you might have guessed it already, but Saruman had not told Sauron that he was taking the hobbits to Isengard. Saruman wants the Ring for his own power."

The ranger sighed. "We're all in danger now, not simply the Evenstar. I wish it was not so for there is too much at stake. So much that can be destroyed and lost if we stray from our goal."

"True, but we still have the advantage on Sauron," Gandalf said and his eyes twinkled under the stars. "The Ring remains hidden. That we should seek to destroy it has yet not entered their darkest dreams. And each day it travels closer to Mordor, and the Fires of Mount Doom. We must trust now in Frodo. Everything depends upon speed and the secrecy of this quest."

Aragorn bowed his head in agreement with a sigh. There wasn't a day that went by without the ranger worrying about the small ones moving closer to Mordor either. He knew the dangers that lay ahead of them and could only hope they made it through unscathed.

Gandalf smoked his pipe and commented, "Do not regret your decision to leave him. Frodo must finish this task alone."

Aragorn offered the wizard a gentle smile. "Frodo is not alone. Sam went with him."

The wizard was plainly surprised by this as he gazed, wide-eyed, up at the ranger. At last, his smile returned as relief washed over his features. "Did he? Did he indeed? Good. Yes, I'm glad."


	16. The Shield Maiden of Rohan

**16. The Shield maiden of Rohan**

Aragorn stood on the wide, paved area in front of Meduseld, the golden hall of Edoras, and looked out at the city beneath him while the smoke from his pipe slowly rose to the skies.

The city of Edoras was located on a hill, with Meduseld at its summit, and the hall greatly extinguished itself from the other, more plain, buildings in the city below. Aragorn, along with his comrades, had arrived the day before and already from afar had seen the golden roof of Meduseld, for its roof was made of straw that shone beneath the sun.

Yesterday had been an eventful day for them all. When they had arrived, king Théoden of Rohan had been under a terrible spell ruled by Saruman. But Gandalf had driven the evil wizard from the king's body and Théoden, after being restored to his former glory, had felt joy for a few short moments until his niece, lady Éowyn, had relayed the news to the king of his son's death.

The funeral had been held not long after, and no one had seen the king smile since.

A short while after the funeral, two young children had arrived on horseback to warn the king of the dangers that was sweeping within their lands. The children's home had been attacked by Wild Men and Gandalf had counselled Théoden to go to war but the king had openly refused. Instead, the king had ordered the citizens of Rohan to leave for their stronghold Helms Deep in the mountains.

From where Aragorn stood now he saw the citizens moving about below, preparing for their long journey across the lands. He could only frown down at them and sighed to himself.

"Why do you frown, lord Aragorn?" a voice asked. The ranger turned around and saw Théoden walk towards him. The king stopped by his side and together the two men looked down at the people below. "If you are worried for your friend then you need not be. My healers have taken care of Boromir's wound. He will heal, but their will be a small, inescapable scar to remind him of his perils. …But that is not why you are frowning, my lord... is it?"

When Théoden got no reply he glanced at the ranger next to him and pushed on, "You frown because of my decision."

Aragorn nodded and inhaled from his long, narrow pipe, "I think it is futile to try and hide from this war. When my companions and I travelled across these lands in search of our three friends I could feel the shadow spread across your lands. Why do you run when you should face this darkness headstrong? Once and for all."

"Because, Aragorn son of Arathorn," Théoden begun and his voice darkened as he spoke, "I will not see my people suffer any longer. _No more_!" The king turned to the ranger and added in a low, almost threatening voice, "And I do believe you are wrong about my land. Rohan has never been lost to any shadow and will not be lost to it any time soon. We will endure."

"You are right," the ranger nodded in sarcastic consent as his mood too faltered. "Your people are not lost. They just need a strong hand to lead them into a brighter tomorrow."

"And you are proposing _you_ are the one to do so?" Théoden asked in a displeased tone.

Aragorn quickly shook his head. "Nay. You should lead your own people, Théoden."

"_I am,_" Théoden commented shortly and turned to back to watch his people. "Look at them. They are counting on me to protect them. And I will. You let me worry about my people, Aragorn... You can worry about your own. Come back and argue when you are leading your own people, my lord."

"Do not let it come to a foul use of words," a voice spoke in a stern tongue behind the two men and they both turned to watch Gandalf who stood there with his staff in hand. The wizard gazed from one man to the other and it was clear he had not come for the talk. The wizard seemed to be on the move, with a grey cape thrown over his shoulder.

"Are you going somewhere, Gandalf?" Théoden asked.

The wizard did not reply, instead he asked, "Tell me, Théoden King, where is your nephew?"

The look on the king's face faltered and a saddened shadow swept across his features. He turned from the two men as he explained, "Éomer was banished. Grima, _the worm_, executed the deed, but I gave my consent to it."

"You were under a dark spell, my friend," Gandalf assured and offered a reassuring smile. "You had no control over your own actions... or should I say your _lack_ of actions."

"If only you had come sooner, Gandalf," Théoden said and his voice broke again. "Perhaps then my son would not be dead now."

"Perhaps," Gandalf agreed. "But what is done is done, Théoden. Not even this old wizard can change that. Instead I ask you to answer my question, will you tell me where your nephew might have gone?"

"North. To Alburg, where he and his soldiers most dwell. I believe he would seek out his fortress and ready his soldiers for battle against any and all enemies that will pass his way. But if you hope to ride there so that he can give us help, then I believe you are wasting yourself on a futile journey. If the enemy attacks there will not be enough time to bring any of his men to our aid."

"You should not speak of things you cannot be certain of, Théoden," Gandalf said and then turned to the silent ranger. "Come, Aragorn, for we have much to discuss and we must do so quickly. Walk with me to the stables. Time is of the essence and I must leave right away."

With long, swift strides, Gandalf then headed down the broad stairs towards the city. Aragorn bowed his head to Théoden before rushing down the stairs to follow the wizard as he walked towards the stables.

* * *

"They come with fire, they come with axes, gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning. Destroyers and usurpers! Curse them!" Treebeard said and his voice echoed between the trees enhanced as it was by his hatred.

Pippin yawned and whispered down to Merry, "Who is he talking about?"

Merry, who also was half-asleep, shrugged, "Don't know..."

Pippin yawned once more and scooted around in search of a more comfortable position on the Ent's branches. For almost four days they had wandered now through the long woods, and Treebeard, with his calm, slow voice had managed to bring the hobbits to a peaceful sleep several times already.

Beside the Ent, Arwen journeyed peacefully with a small smile on her full lips.

"Are you sure you do not wish to rest your feet for awhile, elleth?" Treebeard asked and glanced down at the elf below.

"Thank you no, Treebeard," Arwen shook her head. "I am not tired."

They journeyed further into the woods as the tree-herder started to recite old poetry he once had heard at dusk a long time ago. As he finished his verse, Treebeard turned to watch the hobbits and found them both asleep on his branches.

"Oh," he breathed and lowered his voice. "Your friends seem to be sleeping."

"They have been through a lot. All of us have," Arwen answered with a smile.

"Then I shall let them rest," Treebeard said and the two walked on between the trees that stood tall beneath the sunshine.

Treebeard glanced down and saw the elf's gentle smile.

"Might this Ent inquire, bu-ram-ram," the Ent began, "as to why you are so joyful?"

Arwen nodded and answered in a happy note, "I am thinking of the man whom I love, and how happy I am that he is still alive. That we both are. We were parted in pain, but I am reassured I will see him soon."

"Ah, _love..._" Treebeard said and his eyes clouded with old memories. For a minute the Ent walked in silence, obviously deep in thought, before he faced the elf once more. "How long since I met someone in love, I can hardly remember the feeling myself. You see… I lost the one I love."

"I'm sorry, Fangorn," Arwen said and looked up at her new friend with pity in her eyes. "How did she die?"

"No, no. She did not die. Fimbrethil wandered off with the other Entwives to take care of the gardens... but then we lost them. And we cannot find them..."

The elf sighed, "I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to lose the one you love like that. Perhaps someday you will see her again."

"Perhaps," Treebeard agreed. "But it is unlikely, bum-ba-bhrum."

Suddenly the Ent stopped. Night had begun to fall over the forest and they had finally reached Wellinghall, the home of Treebeard. Two green trees with entwined branches stood before the entrance of Wellinghall and beyond Arwen could see a roofless hall stretch out.

Treebeard stepped inside and gently put the two sleeping hobbits down on the low, gigantic bed in there. Merry and Pippin curled up and kept on sleeping peacefully like two babies who had not gotten a single second of rest in over a week.

"Sleep, little Shirelings," Treebeard said and then stepped out in to the forest once more. He looked down at Arwen and continued, "You may enter as well, but I must go."

"What for?" Arwen questioned.

"For I have business with Fangorn this night. I must awaken many of our friends, for there are many who must come. A meeting shall be held at Entmoot to decide the future of us Ents."

Arwen smiled as Treebeard disappeared between the trees taking his long, slow strides. The dark-haired woman stood silently in the night, watching the trees and taking in the tranquility of their peace, when suddenly she heard a raspy unfamiliar voice,

_"The dark one's gathering all armies to him. It won't be long now, he will soon be ready."_

_Arwen turned around and realized immediately that her surroundings had changed; she was no longer in Fangorn but at more open ground with several low bushes and uneven terrain. In front of her she was surprised to see Frodo, Sam and a creature lying on the ground looking down at many foreign soldiers. The creature talked again and Arwen recognized him from when she had seen him on the stone beach with Frodo; Gollum. Though Arwen knew this was a vision she could find no answer in her mind as to why she was seeing this. In her long past she had scarcely received any visions at all._

_Suddenly Gollum sneaked away and she saw him escape out of sight from something or someone. Frodo was the first to notice the creature's absence but then dark soldiers on the plains below were suddenly under attack. Sam and Frodo tried to hide but rangers appeared from nowhere and took hold of both hobbits. Acting on instinct, Arwen jumped forwards but as she did the vision disappeared. _

She stopped her lunge as the forest of Fangorn once more revealed itself around her. The forest lay completely silent a few minutes as Arwen struggled to recollect her scattered, confused thoughts. As she did, tension suddenly seemed to rise in the forest, it crept around her like a spider in its web. Her wound stung on her back and she felt as if the darkness crawled beneath her skin. Warily, she took hold of her sword in preparation of an attack but none came. Instead, a shrill, happy laughter echoed among the trees.

_Confused, Arwen turned towards the laughter and her eyes noticed a young fair-haired child who stood before her with a wide grin on his lips as he gazed up at her in turn. Now thoroughly puzzled, Arwen just watched the young boy. This was far from anything Arwen had expected when she had sensed the darkness around her. __The elf maiden knew this was a new vision, but was uncertain as to why this one felt so different from the other. A feeling of uneasiness grew in her chest._

_The child inspected her curiously with kind eye and there was something about his twinkling, blue eyes that seemed familiar. His face was innocent and framed by his beautiful, golden curls as he tilted it to the side. _

_"What is your name?" he asked her._

_Arwen watched him in astonishment and replied, "My name is Arwen Undómiel. What is your name?"_

_The boy seemed not to have heard her as he thought for a second and then quickly said; "Undómiel means Evening Star. It is elvish. My father has taught me that!"_

_The elf felt her heart skip a beat as her wonder grew. The boy suddenly laughed, it was the same carefree sound she had heard earlier, and asked; "Do you wish to play with me?"_

_Arwen shook her head absently and the boy grinned before running away from her. In front of her eyes, the scene suddenly changed. The great forest shifted into a white stone balcony looking out over a large, fair city. The blond child ran onto the balcony and into the waiting arms of a beautiful fair-haired woman. __Arwen did not recognise her but guessed that maybe someday she probably would. _Whoever she was, she was obviously the child's mother. 

_Arwen smiled as the mother spun around with her child while they laughed with carefree joy. The elf's smile faltered quickly when a man walked onto the balcony to join the mother and child. The man wore a proud crown on top of his graying hair. Arwen stopped breathing and slowly shook her head. She knew this man. This man was an older version of Aragorn, her Estel._

_Aragorn smiled affectionately at the fair-haired woman and then walked over to join mother and child. His family._

Arwen felt her throat tighten and her eyes stung from the images before her. Overcome by sadness, she closed her eyes tight and let tears roam down her cheeks freely. When she opened her eyes again the vision was gone and she was back in the woods outside Treebeard's home.

The elf exhaled a shuddering breath that seemed to echo between the trees. With this second foresight, Arwen had felt as if someone stabbed a knife through her heart. The future she had seen had been of a happy Aragorn and his family... and Arwen was clearly not part of that future. The elf could not help but wonder what this meant. Had it meant that she had journeyed across the Grey Havens or perhaps had succumbed to a far crueler fate? Was this in the cards for her then, to be separated by Aragorn and have no future with the man she loved?

Her body shook with silent tears and she felt her powers drain from her body, leaving it weak and bare to pain. Her breaths came heavy and unsteady and finally her knees gave in. She fell hard onto the forest floor as the weary overpowered her. She tried to regain some strength but couldn't help the thought that silently asked her if all was lost to her now.

* * *

Night hovered over the lands of Rohan and Aragorn found his eyelids grew heavier by the second. Boromir and Gimli had already gone to bed but Legolas remained outside, watching the eastern horizon.

The ranger had joined the elf for a while but had eventually gotten tired and restless. It was the night before they were all to set out for Helms Deep and the uneasiness was plain in everyone, from small child to trained soldier. Aragorn still felt this was the wrong decision and so it seemed Gandalf had as well. When he had ridden off earlier during the afternoon on his trusted Shadowfax, he had asked Aragorn to look after the people of Rohan. The ranger had sworn he would do everything he could for them and he intended to uphold that promise no matter the cost. He just hoped his assistance would be wanted from Théoden when time called for it.

Silently Aragorn walked through the halls of Meduseld in pursuit of something to help with when suddenly he heard a familiar voice echo from a room nearby.

"Could you move those baskets down to the village, they are to be taken with tomorrow."

The voice belonged to the fair Éowyn. Aragorn stepped over to the door and looked inside. He saw two soldiers in the room who picked up a couple of baskets filled to the brim with bread and then walk towards him. They smiled friendly as they passed him and he greeted them the same way as they walked off down the corridor.

As soon as they were gone, the ranger turned back to look at the fair lady who had her back towards him. She was alone in the room now but was still working hard to prepare for the next day despite the late hour.

The ranger stepped into the room but still she did not notice his presence. The grim determination that seemed to be in her every fiber reminded Aragorn of a conversation the two had shared the day before. He knew she seemed tough and cold to those who did not know her but he also knew that beneath her cold facade was a warm, loving woman who would go to any means to protect her people. Even though he knew of her strength he still seemed to behold a frail, saddened girl in her as well. Someone who had gone through hell in life without really having felt the true joys of it. Aragorn cleared his throat and Éowyn immediately turned towards him. Her pale eyes widened as she saw who it was and she hurried to stand up properly to bow at him.

"My lord," she greeted and he bowed back.

"Why are you still working, milady? The last arrangements can be done tomorrow."

"I do not much like to wait," she explained with a faint smile on her thin lips. "And I do not wish to leave this for tomorrow so that my uncle must worry over it. He already has too much on his mind as it is."

Aragorn nodded in understanding and stepped further into the chamber. "Your uncle does seem to be burdened by all this…"

Éowyn looked at him intently for a few minutes before she broke the silence, "He said you did not agree with his decision."

"And I do not," Aragorn said truthfully. "I understand it... but I do not believe hiding in Helms Deep will be any good for him or your people."

"You wish for us to fight our enemies head on? With any force we can muster?" Éowyn asked and took a timid step towards him. Aragorn thought he saw a small flicker of something within her eyes, but it was so small that when it vanished he wasn't sure what he had seen. "If that is your suggestion, I will support you, my lord. Maybe I can help you convince Théoden. Perhaps we will be able to persuade him if we try together."

"I do not believe your uncle will ever change his mind, even though it is a nice thought."

The fair maiden sighed and turned her head to the side. "You and I both know that Helms Deep does not take away the dangers my people face. I do wish we would fight, to show our foes that the glory that once was Rohan is not dead. That our flame still burns hot. I fear however... I have long now sensed a shadow in these lands."

Aragorn felt astonished she had spoken words he himself had thought down to the very same letter. Still, he kept his thoughts to himself as he listened to the woman.

"Much has happened in this world recently. Much that I wished could be undone. But it is futile, what is done is done. I cannot change anything... No matter how much I wish it."

The ranger frowned at her cynical words and was about to comment when she turned to him. He could plainly see a fire burn within her ocean colored eyes now, "But I believe, my lord, that there is a chance to escape out from the shadow. _If_ we are led and helped by the right person. My people need to see a light in the darkness, _I _need to see a light."

"The light is already here, lady Éowyn," Aragorn assured in a low voice. "You just have to look within."

"I fear I cannot see a light within myself, not anymore," Éowyn said. "I fear there is none left..."

"Do not give up yet, milady. You are a strong woman and you cannot falter in your believes now."

"But I have been doing so for a long time now, my lord," she said and smiled humorless. "I wish hope was waiting for me around the corner, but… I cannot seem to find the path to lead me there."

Éowyn's eyes seemed to disappear to a far away place and with a concerned look Aragorn stepped closer to her. He reached out his hand and gently squeezed her smaller, colder hand in his. Startled by his actions, Éowyn was pulled from her thoughts and turned to look up at him.

He smiled at her with warmth and friendliness, "Everything will be fine in the end. Gandalf promised he would find help. I have known the wizard for a long time and he always keeps his word."

Éowyn's voice trembled slightly when she spoke next, "Forgive me, Aragorn... but I do not think _Gandalf_ will be the one to ease my worries."

The ranger took a step backwards and smiled politely at her as he let go of her hand. Perhaps he had gotten too close to her. Either way, it was best to back off now. "You will find hope, Éowyn. I am sure of it."

The woman opened her mouth to speak when suddenly Legolas's voice was heard in the halls outside the room.

"Aragorn?" the elf called and soon appeared in the open doorway. "There you are, Estel. When you are done in here I would like a swift word with you." As he noticed the fair maiden, he bowed his head to her. "Good evening, milady."

The elf left and Aragorn and Éowyn were alone once more. The ranger bowed his head to the shield maiden one last time, bade her goodnight and headed towards the door.

"My lord?" her question kept him in the chamber and he turned back around. "What does it mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"_Estel_. It is elvish I presume?"

Aragorn hesitated a beat before nodding once. "Yes. It is elvish for 'Hope'. ...Goodnight, milady."

The ranger swiftly turned around but not before noticing how her eyes widened by his words. He held back a sigh as he exited the room in search of Legolas.

Éowyn stood in the room for a few minutes alone after Aragorn had left her. A small smile appeared at the corner of her lips as she watched the doorway where the man had just disappeared. Yes, Éowyn agreed. She believed she had finally found her hope.


	17. Complications

**17. Complications**

Arwen spent the rest of the night wandering close to Wellinghall under the pale moon. After her visions she felt no peace to rest and it was not until the first rays of morning poke through the branches of the ancient trees that the elf entered Treebeard's home.

Her eyes easily sought out the two hobbits who stood close to their host. In the hobbits' hands rested two small jugs containing a liquid Arwen had never seen before. Both Merry and Pippin smiled impishly up at her as she joined them. She looked them up and down and frowned in suspicion.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or has the two of you grown an inch or two?"

"No, what you say is true, elleth," Treebeard confirmed in his rumbling, slow voice. "They have had a sip of ent-draught to get invigorated."

"It is a mighty drink, Treebeard. I feel invigorated in more than spirit!" Pippin exclaimed. "I feel both happier and taller, it's double the fun!"

"I am glad to hear it, young hobbit... I think," Treebeard said and then turned once more to face the elf. "The two young gentlemen here have told me all about your journeys and I have decided I will support you in your quest. Meriadoc suggested we should stop Saruman and I have agreed to do what I can to enable such an adventure. I am aware what the wizard has done to my forest and I cannot allow such tormenting to continue any further."

"Thank you, Fangorn," Arwen smiled and glanced at Merry and Pippin who were comparing heights. The two seemed unable to agree over who were truly tallest. "Your support means a lot to us and I hope you are aware how much."

The large Ent bowed his head with a hum before he spoke once more, "I believe it is time. I have called for the other Ents and we are to meet them at Derndingle today. I think we had better set out now if we will make it on time."

Gently he picked up Merry and Pippin and placed them on his shoulder branches and together with Arwen, the Ent walked out of Wellinghall and headed even further into the widespread forest.

As they marched the sun rose higher on the skies and it seemed to cast away some of the shadows that hung over the trees. Still Arwen could sense the anger of the trees. They were weary and seemed hateful to many a things, much unlike their joy in former glory days. Much had changed as of late and Arwen only wished there was something she could do to help them, too.

Up on Treebeard's shoulder, Merry let out a burp that sounded suspiciously entish and Arwen laughed in good humor at this.

"I don't know about you," she called up to them as she ducked a branch and walked on. "but I would not dare to taste a drink I knew so very little about."

"Treebeard gave his word that it would be all right, and we did honestly not know that it would affect our height when we drank it!" Merry defended their decision.

"Well, I don't hear you complaining about your new height, my friend."

"Our growth was a bonus," Pippin grinned down.

"I do not see why you would need to grow any taller. You are hobbits, after all. You are short by nature," Arwen said.

"Aye, my lady," Merry agreed and pointed a finger down at her. "But how could you understand? You are already above average height of Men."

"I am an elf," she said with a shrug.

"It was _harmless_," Pippin argued. "We were invigorated and made slightly taller. I see no bad side effects to it."

His face suddenly contorted and he turned to the side as if to burp, but instead made another tree-like noise. At that moment, they passed by a tree which swung a narrow branch at Pippin. It slapped the hobbit hard across the cheek and Pippin drew back with a hand to his sore face.

Merry snickered and leaned over. "Maybe you offended it."

Pippin seemed scared at this notion and stood up to look over Treebeard's shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted to the tree in question and waved his hand apologetically.

The hobbit turned forward again and sat down with a pleased smile on his face. He looked over and saw Merry trying hard to stifle his laughter. In the end, however, it was Arwen who laughed first and the sound rang clear between the trees. The entire thing was so peculiar and it felt nice to laugh even if just over such a trivial thing. Merry joined her laugh and Pippin looked between them both with a clueless expression. With a deep throaty chuckle Treebeard joined them and Pippin felt even more perplexed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You just took a good beating from a _tree_, Pip," Merry said with a grin. "And _apologized_ to it."

"So?" Pippin asked.

Arwen shook her head at the hobbit's innocence and silently wished he would never lose that part of him. As she spoke, she returned to finish their former conversation, "Ah, my dear hobbits. I suppose you can rest assured that you, too, are above average height now. Well, for hobbits, that is."

Both Merry and Pippin grinned proudly as they journeyed deeper into the forest. All of their spirits were lifted to heights they had not reached since well before setting off on the quest to destroy the Ring. Their merriment was abruptly cut short, however, when a terrible screech echoed above them in the sky. It seemed to rip at their very souls and the two hobbits suppressed a shudder as they turned to look up at the noise maker.

Between the tree crowns they could see a foul winged beast soar with a familiar rider atop its back.

"_Nazgul_!" Merry whispered frantically. "I thought they were supposed to be dead!"

"No, you don't kill them with a mere flash flood," said Arwen and shook her head as a grim expression passed her fair features. "It will take more to kill the most feared of Sauron's servants."

"What is it doing here?" Pippin asked as he felt panic rise within his chest. He didn't much care for the fear the wraiths awoke in him whenever they were close. "They're a bit far away from home, aren't they?"

"Yes, and seldom do they travel in the light of day…" Arwen muttered as she tried to grasp this, too. "But you know what it wants, what it is after…"

"_Frodo_…" Merry whispered solemnly. "I suppose, in a way, I am happy that it is searching here for then it is far from actually finding him."

Arwen frowned as a thought formed in her head. "I wonder if Sauron sent his wraiths here because he found out that Saruman was taking hobbits to Orthanc."

"You need not fear it now," Treebeard said and the other three were drawn from their weary discussion. "You are protected with me in Fangorn, no harm will come to you here."

Only mildly satisfied with Treebeard's words of comfort, the hobbits calmed down and turned to look ahead once more. Arwen glanced up one final time between the trees but the dark creature had passed. Slowly, she turned away and followed in Treebeard's huge steps.

* * *

An hour later they finally reached their destination; Derndingle. The round dell was located in the southwestern part of the wide forest. The clearing was impressively large and their was an air of ancient wisdom about it. Treebeard slowly put Merry and Pippin down on the ground beside the elf before he stepped into the middle of the clearing.

"Let the Entmoot begin," the End spoke in a slow rumble and not long after other Ents started to join them in the area. Arwen, Merry and Pippin stepped back to look at all of the enormous tree-herders of various size and shapes that entered. Eventually about fifty Ents had joined Treebeard in the clearing.

"Look at them all!" Merry whispered to his two friends. "If we can get them to fight Saruman we will surely beat the cruel wizard."

"That sounds like a big '_if_' to me…" Pippin said and shrugged. Ever since he had learned the wraiths were still alive his mind had been occupied on darker things. Already before learning of it, he had been having a hard time finding hope but now it all seemed to be dwindling fast. "What if we cannot convince them as easily as we convinced Treebeard?"

"It is us you're talking about, Pip. We can convince anyone!" Merry promised with a wide grin.

The other hobbit sighed and turned away from them. "…Nevertheless, I just can't help but wonder if we really are doing the right thing. I mean, how can _more war_ help us stop this? How can more bloodshed help our cause?"

"Sometimes you must make sacrifices in order to win," Merry offered and frowned. He had known Pippin his entirely life, but had never seen his friend this distant and mellow. It scared Merry to no end.

Pippin turned back to watch his hobbit friend. "I know that, Merry. I want Saruman to be defeated just as you do. I just don't want any more of our friends to die. I wish Frodo could do his task without obstacles and more grief. I wish we could be at home sitting on a bench and smoking tobacco. I don't want to fight anymore..."

"You sound like you have given up hope, Pippin," Arwen pointed out in a soft voice.

"No, not really," Pippin promised. Though it had dwindled, the hobbit knew a flicker of hope still burned strong somewhere deep within him. "I just don't want to see more death, is all. We have already seen Gandalf and Boromir die. Granted, the wizard came back to us... but we still saw him fall. I wish all of this was done but I know it can't be until after we have fought for our lives. I just wonder… What difference can we actually do?"

"More than you think, Peregrin." Arwen knelt by the hobbit. "Just think about what your friends are doing at this very moment. Frodo and Sam march towards Mordor to destroy what _no one_ _else_ can. And look at what you yourselves have accomplished. _You _have come this far, _you_ have not died. That must mean that there is more to your future than you think."

Pippin smiled. "I wish Treebeard had brought some more of that ent-draught of his, I could need it now."

Merry chuckled at his friend and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. He looked over at the Ents who seemed already to be deep in discussion and smiled, "I suppose we ought to wait until Treebeard calls for our help. Come, let us rest."

The three of them walked over to a couple of trees at the outskirts of the clearing and sat down on the roots. Merry felt a plan form in his head that could cheer his friend up and turned to the elf on his right.

"While we wait, why don't you tell us your story?"

"My story?" Arwen frowned in confusion.

"Aragorn and yours."

"Ah..." a small smile flickered across her lips but was swept away as something dark replaced it. Merry frowned for he didn't know what it could be. Before he could ask her, however, the smile returned. "What do you wish to know?"

"Well... when did you two meet?" Pippin asked.

"Not long ago, I'd say. Though I suppose to you it might be," Arwen said as she lost herself in the happy memories of days past. "Aragorn was but still young, carefree... and beardless. It must be well over sixty years since-"

"_Woah_!" Pippin's eyes widened and he gazed up at the elf. "_Sixty_?! Exactly how old is Strider? I thought he was no more than... thirty? forty?"

"Eighty-seven," Arwen explained and laughed at the hobbits's surprised looks.

As soon as the two had recollected themselves, Arwen proceeded to explain to the two both of Aragorn's ancestry and her own relationship to the son of Arathorn.

* * *

A few hours later the three of them had grown restless of waiting. Pippin lay sprawled across a branch, his feet dangling midair, while Merry snoozed nearby a tree-log. Arwen sat on the ground and remained lost in her thoughts. Her vision the other day still replayed inside her head and whenever it did caused havoc within her mind. The memories of her past with Aragorn seemed a stark contrast to her vision and everything was simply confusion. Was the past that promised her future happiness to be obliterated and exchanged for someone else's happiness?

She was drawn from her dark pondering as two Ents walked towards them. She nudged Merry, who sleepily rubbed his eyes but as he saw the Ents jumped from the ground fully alert. He immediately recognized Treebeard but the other Ent was unfamiliar. Pippin jumped down from the tree and joined the others.

"Friends," Treebeard said as he joined them. He opened his mouth as if to speak but was interrupted by Merry.

"Have you decided anything yet?"

"Decided?" Treebeard asked. "No, we have just finished saying 'Hello' to each other in entish. And I have explained shortly who you are. The others have agreed that you cannot be Orcs, master hobbits."

"But…" Merry begun but Arwen placed a hand on his shoulder. He silenced and waited for Treebeard to continue.

"I wish for you to meet Quickbeam, who is a very old friend of mine." The other Ent stepped forward and smiled down at them as he waved a slow arm. Quickbeam was smaller in stature than Treebeard but his yellow eyes shone with the same kindness.

"I have mentioned the cause of our meeting to Quickbeam and he has already decided what he would like to do," Treebeard continued.

Quickbeam nodded and explained, "I believe your idea is the right thing for the Ents. We cannot just stand by while our forest is being destroyed by dark forces. No, I will go to war with you when the time comes for it and if the other Ents decide to do so."

Merry sighed as he glanced over at the other tree-herders on the other edge of the clearing. "Why do I get the feeling that the others aren't about to make such a decision any time soon?"

"You are very correct, Meriadoc," Quickbeam said. "An Entmoot often takes days before a decision is reached, I fear it will not be any different in this case either."

"_Days_?!" Pippin exclaimed loudly.

Merry hurriedly added, "But what if we don't have days?"

"I'm sorry, small ones," Treebeard said. "But we Ents will not rush into anything, we will not earn time by being hasty in our decision."

"Which is why I have decided that we should go to my home for there is little you can do here," Quickbeam said. "The four of us can wait at my place until Treebeard calls for us."

* * *

From where he rode atop a brown mare, Boromir watched the people of Rohan below.

For three days now they had been on a march towards their safe-keep in the mountains. Because of the amount of people they were trying to move to safety the journey went slow and many times Boromir had grown restless.

It was near midday and the skies were clouded and grey, By his side Gimli wandered and instead of joining his friend in a saddle, he led his horse by the reins. In fact it was Legolas's horse but the elf had run off to take the lead as to keep a look out for danger. The Gondorian had earlier asked the dwarf why he did not ride but Gimli had merely huffed at the idea.

"Do you think we will reach Helms Deep soon?" Gimli asked suddenly.

Boromir shrugged down at his friend. The action made his wound ache a little but he did not worry about it since the healers of Rohan had made a fine job of stitching it up. "I am not sure, master dwarf... But I sure hope so."

They continued their journey in comfortable silence for a while longer until suddenly the dwarf spoke out again, "She is a fine lady, is she not?"

The Gondorian frowned and tried to figure out which woman Gimli was talking about. As he looked ahead, he saw the fair shield-maiden of Rohan lead her own horse further up ahead.

"The lady Éowyn?" Boromir asked and the dwarf nodded. "She seems a bit bitter but otherwise a very beautiful young lady. …Her cooking is awful though, you should consider yourself lucky you did not taste her soup yesterday."

Gimli chuckled, "I have a nose for good soups, and my nose has saved me at many occasions! …However, I do feel sorry for her."

"She has been through a lot in her short life," Boromir agreed but Gimli shook his head.

"Nay, I was not referring to that," the dwarf said and pointed to a figure ahead of the maiden. "I find it sad that she has set her sights on the _one man_ she cannot ever have. No matter how much she might wish it."

Boromir looked at Aragorn up ahead and then back at Éowyn. He noticed how the lady watched the ranger with an unreadable look as a small smile grazed her lips. The maiden's amiable feelings towards the man were recognizable to those who looked for it and could not be denied.

"Aye, that is sad," Boromir said in pity. "You don't suppose we ought to warn the lady?"

"No," Gimli shook his head. "If it is to have any affect on her the words must come from Aragorn himself. This concerns the two of them and I am not going to get involved in their business."

Boromir nodded as he saw Éowyn take a deep breath and quickened her steps to catch up with the ranger.

* * *

Aragorn wondered what she was doing now, his Evenstar. The man walked by his horse and his fingers gently caressed the pendant around his neck as his thoughts strayed like they did ever so often these days. It had been almost a fortnight since he had last seen her. He knew it was nothing compared to the time they had spent apart in the past, but as always when apart his thoughts were drawn to her.

"My lord?" he suddenly heard and turned to the side. The lady Éowyn smiled up at him. For a second he thought she was going to offer him more food and dreaded that he would have to accept once more. But she merely smiled and asked if it was alright if she walked with him. He nodded and they continued in silence. After a while Aragorn felt her gaze upon him and turned to look at her quizzically. Éowyn immediately asked, "Where is she?"

Aragorn frowned in confusion and the fair woman inquired further, "The woman, who gave you that jewel?"

Aragorn's hand left the pendant then and he smiled absently. Her question had stirred his heart and once more he thought of the dark-haired elf. He wished she was there with him to give him the strength and support only she could give in dark times. He held no greater wish now than to simply hold her in his arms as the world turned around them.

"She is in the Forest of Fangorn with two hobbits."

"_Fangorn_?" Éowyn asked in surprise. Of all answers she had been prepared for, that had not been one of them. "What, if you don't mind me asking, is she doing in there?"

"She was taken by Orcs along with two hobbits. She was among the friends Legolas, Gimli, Boromir and I were trying to save before we came to Edoras with Gandalf. The Orcs that had captured them were killed by warriors of Rohan, probably led by your brother, and to stay alive she and the hobbits ran into the forest. Apparently, they are watched over by an Ent."

Éowyn was silent for a few moments. Eventually she asked in a timid voice, "Do you miss her, my lord?"

Aragorn watched her for a couple of seconds and then nodded. He could feel she wanted to say more but the maiden remained silent as they walked on side by side. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, their tranquility was interrupted by growls and terrified shouts that echoed from beyond the hill ahead.

"What is that noise?" Éowyn asked.

"Hold my horse," the ranger asked of her and she took the reins as he ran up the hill to have a look.

Beyond the hill Aragorn saw that Legolas had just killed off an Orc and a giant warg lay dead close by. A further distance away one of Théoden's riders lay diseased as well. Aragorn quickly connected the dots and turned back around to warn the others, Théoden rode forward and inquired about the situation.

"_Wargs_!" Aragorn shouted as he ran back down the hill and immediately the people began to panic.

The ranger ran over to Éowyn who gave him back the reins and he mounted the horse as she shouted, "Be careful! …Aragorn!"

He looked down at her once and nodded swiftly before he urged his horse forward.

Théoden was encouraging the others to continue to Helm's Deep while the soldiers fought this danger. Éowyn asked to stay but the king pleaded with her to lead their people. Reluctantly she nodded and immediately started helping the people. One final time the fair maiden turned and saw Aragorn ride with the other warriors up the hill. She silently hoped she would see him again when all of this was over.

The ranger and the other horse men rode over the hillside onto the small open field. On the other side of the field they could make out hordes of Orcs riding the giant wargs of Isengard. Their enemies were approaching fast.

Théoden was the first to draw his sword and led the others into the fierce battle. As the two sides clashed many met a most gruesome death. Blood colored the ground red and black from both Man and Orc.

Aragorn swung his sword left and right and there was hardly time to look at the Orcs he killed as others attacked. Though the soldiers put up a strong defense, there were still a lot of Men who were slain by the Orcs and their ruthless wargs.

Gimli had in the the heat of the battle gotten stuck beneath a dead warg and Orc. While he attempted to lift the heavy weight off him, a second warg suddenly climbed atop the pile and the dwarf's eyes widened in fear. He could not get out. The ranger noticed this, pulled a spear from the ground and turned his horse around. He threw the weapon at the warg and the beast fell dead atop the pile on top of Gimli.

As Aragorn rode on to face more of the evil creatures,a warg suddenly jumped at him and knocked him off his horse. The man tumbled to the ground and hurriedly stood up.

From the side he heard Boromir call his name and the ranger quickly turned as the Gondorian rode over to him. Aragorn swung himself up onto the horse behind the other man and the two rode off. They did not get far, however, as the warg caught up to them and knocked the horse over.

As Boromir turned to fight the beast and protect his horse, Aragorn saw a riding Orc come his way. The Orc smirked at him as it swung its weapon but the ranger managed to duck out of the way in the nick of time. He swung himself atop the warg behind the Orc, but the Orc soon knocked him off.

To his surprise, Aragorn did not fall off entirely because his gauntlet was stuck on the warg saddle as the four-legged creature kept running across the field. The Orc noticed the man's precarious situation and smiled even more menacingly down at him. It reached for its sword but the ranger was swifter. He managed to draw his own dagger first and pulled himself up to stab the Orc in the chest. As he did, the Orc lost its own crooked weapon and instead gripped at the ranger's throat. His grip slipped and Aragorn saw the Orc fall off the warg.

The ranger looked up and further ahead he saw the edge of a cliff approach with great speed which the warg, in its warmongering mind, had not noticed. Aragorn turned back and attempted to release his gauntlet but it was too late. And so the mighty warrior fell over the edge and tumbled down after the warg.

* * *

After the battle had ended, Legolas walked aimlessly between the carcasses. Their side had won but also lost many noble warriors. At the moment, the elf's eyes was searching for one warrior in particular.

"_Aragorn_!" he called but still received no answer.

The others seemed to notice the ranger's absence as well and started looking around too. Gimli and Boromir joined their elf friend but neither could see the ranger anywhere on the bloody field.

Suddenly a gurgling laughter was heard and Gimli ran over to the Orc who had made the sound. In its chest was the elven dagger Aragorn had carried and the dwarf pulled the Orc up, "Tell me what happened to him and I will ease your passing!"

The creature laughed once more as dark blood trickled down its chin. Between straggling breaths, it managed to speak, "He... has departed. He took a little tumble off the cliff..."

Legolas pulled the orc from Gimli's grasp and furiously said, "You lie."

The Orc laughed one final time before it died in the elf's arms. Legolas dropped the creature as his mind reeled. He could not believe it, but then his eyes were drawn to something white and bright in the Orc's grasp. With a sad breath he opened the hand and removed from it the Evenstar pendant. Aragorn would not willingly have given up his most precious belonging.

Legolas exchanged a mournful look with Gimli and Boromir and the three hurried over to the edge where Théoden already stood and gazed down. Far, far below them ran a mighty, thunderous river between sharp mountains and there were no sign of the fallen warrior. Legolas felt his heart fall with the thought of losing his friend and beside him Boromir knelt down on the rock. Gimli put a supportive hand on the Gondorian's shoulder as they silently gazed down.

Théoden finally turned and called to his soldiers, "Get the wounded on horses. We must hurry to Helms Deep, Saruman's wargs could return and we have no time to spare here." After a pause he added, "Leave the dead."

The blond elf whipped his head in Théoden's direction as the Gondorian shot up from the ground.

"_We cannot leave him_!" Boromir protested and tears shone in his pale eyes. The king looked sorrowfully at the man before he placed a comforting hand on the elf's shoulder.

"I am sorry for your loss. But if we want to save the others, we must leave. I wish there was another choice, but I see none. Come," he said and walked off.

The three friends stood atop the cliff and gazed down at the river once more. No words passed between them for their sorrow was too great. Gimli brushed away a tear that slid down his face before he and Boromir turned from the river. The elf remained and looked down at the pendant in his hand and his heart reached out to Arwen. He then turned away from the cliff knowing there was nothing he could do for Aragorn now.

* * *

Meanwhile, two days had passed in Fangorn since Quickbeam had taken the hobbits and Arwen to his home. The four of them had soon grown tired just sitting in the background unable to speak their words back at the Entmoot. To keep their minds busy, Quickbeam had taken them into the forest and regaled them with songs and tales of old. The Ent had proved to be more jovial even than Treebeard and he often laughed with the others.

At the moment, the Ent laughed at a song Merry and Pippin were improvising in a small clearing while Arwen stood not far away with a smile on her own face. The two hobbits jumped and danced around each other as they sang and all thoughts of war seemed to have flown away from their minds. They seemed much like their carefree selves once more. The elf figured they all needed these joyful moments in order to completely lose themselves to sadness. Arwen laughed heartily at a particularly funny verse they sang about Merry, Pippin and herself.

Not a second later, Arwen felt a shill run up her spine. Something called to her in her mind and she closed her eyes tight as she tried to sense what it was.

Even though her eyes were closed she could still see things clear before her inner eye. In front of her, she saw a strong river that crashed against a stony beach. Upon the banks, she saw a battered and bruised Aragorn. His body had recently been washed ashore as he remained lying on the ground without moving. Her spirit hurried to his barely breathing body and she used her elven powers to bring some life back to him. Gently she leaned over him and kissed his lips tenderly.

_May the grace of the Valar protect you and keep you safe_, she sent to him through her thoughts.

She had done everything she could for him and felt her spirits being tugged back. She looked down and noticed how Aragorn slowly opened his eyes. Their gazes met for a second across the abyss of time and space that separated them and the elf smiled down at the man. Then that sight was gone from her.

Arwen opened her eyes and found that she was once more back in Fangorn. Neither the hobbits nor Quickbeam had even noticed her brief lapse of attention.

The elf drew a shuddering breath and a wave of dizziness threatened to overpower her body. Time seemed to slow down and her breaths came unsteady within her chest. She staggered as she realized she could do nothing to stop the shadow that spread through her mind all of the sudden. Her vision went in and out of focus and the forest around her began to disappear before her.

Without any warning everything went black and the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was the hobbits terrified shouts.


	18. Last March of the Ents

**18. Last March of the Ents**

Darkness. All around her. There was a frost in the dark that she never had sensed before and it seemed to bite its way into her very core. Except for the chill she felt nothing, nor did she see or hear anything. Slowly fears awoke inside of her and the shadows crept closer. She knew in her heart that she was powerless and could do nothing to escape it.

_"Do not worry, Arwen. Stay strong in your beliefs and all will be well. Trust me, dearest child..." _Arwen frowned at the sound of a voice within her head. It had been nothing more than the whisper of the wind yet it was both familiar and long forgotten. It had sounded almost like... But it was impossible!

As she pondered it, another strong voice broke through the shadows and echoed through the deep abyss of darkness, "Open your eyes, Arwen."

She did as this second voice had told her and opened her silver eyes to gaze upon the world.

The fear within subsided and was replaced by confusion for she realized that she was back home in Rivendell. Above her, she could see a dark, clouded sky without the rays of the warm sun that she was so used to seeing. With a frown she sat up and realized that she was on a daybed on one of the open balconies. She looked around and saw that leaves had fallen from the trees and lay golden on the ground and bed around her. She saw them shimmering in and out of focus as if Rivendell was clouded in shadows and not just its skies. It seemed the land of the elves was lost to the evil of the deep dark.

Arwen's heart beat furiously in her chest as panic gripped her throat once more. Was Rivendell truly lost? She had thought it was the last place that would be conquered by any evil but now it stood without hope against a waning horizon.

"We are not doomed, child…" It was her father's voice and she turned as her eyes searched for him.

Glimmering in a silvery light, he walked towards the daybed and the elf maiden knew that at least her father had not succumbed. In his wise face she saw both grim awareness and vague hope.

"_Ada_?" she asked in confusion. "What is happening? Why am I in Imladris?"

"Your thoughts are clouded, Arwen. I led them to this place. This is not the real Rivendell but merely your vision of it," Elrond explained in a gentle tone as he sat down on the bed next to her.

"_Ú-chenion,_" she said with a frown and watched her father intently. (_I do not understand_.)

"Our home is clouded to you, my daughter, because of a fixed darkness within your mind. It is nested deep inside and has begun to obstruct your thoughts."

Arwen sat in silence and looked up at her father after he finished. Cautiously she asked, "...What must I do? What must I do to be rid of this shadow?"

A small, warm smile spread across Elrond's lips. "Come home, Arwen."

Her eyes widened as she beheld his grey orbs. Elrond's eyes shone with an open, honest fear and looked at her without faltering.

"_Man_?" she asked. (_What?)_

"_Arwen, telin le thaed_," Elrond said. "If you do not come home now, there is a chance you never will." (_Arwen, I have come to help_.)

The elf maiden turned her face away and a frown spread across her features. She tried to clear her thoughts but felt confusion obstruct her attempts and she sighed in defeat. She was reminded of their parting in Rivendell as the fellowship had set off and she knew her father had always wanted her home. He had never accepted her will and she wasn't entirely surprised he wanted to change her mind once more. Either way, she had to try and understand the reasons behind all this and so racked her brain for ideas.

"If this is about my arrow wound then you need not worry," she said at last. "It is healing, albeit slower than I thought it would. Nevertheless, I am not dying. There is no darkness... Ada, you know I can defend myself."

"_Ú-bedin o gurth ne dagor,_" Elrond said gravely. (_It is not of death in battle that I speak of_.)

Arwen felt her heart stop for a second upon reading the severity in his features. She wet her lips slowly as if attempting to buy time, before finally asking, "_O man pedich_?" (_Of what do you speak?)_

Her father inhaled as if to strengthen himself before he explained, "I see only death in your future here."

Arwen frowned and stared off into the distance, "We have had this talk before.. I thought you would have grown to accept my decision since then."

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Elrond nod his head grimly. "I do understand it... And I have come to accept it, despite of what you might think. But now you must listen to what I am saying. I feel helpless here with all my children separated from me. And I fear for you the most... as I have always done. I wish to aid you but the only way for me to do so is if you come back to me. _Bado na Valannor, no círar_." (_Go to Valinor, before it is too late_.)

"I cannot," Arwen said and turned her gaze back to Elrond. She willed her father to read the sincere apology in her eyes, "I cannot leave Aragorn."

Elrond shook his head and sighed. "You do not understand, child. You do not understand what shadow I speak of."

"I think I do..." Arwen lowered her eyes. "I think you are hurting, _Ada_. The shadows that currently lurk in Middle Earth hurt us all. They threaten to tear us apart, but... It will be better. _All_ will be well. I must tell you... I heard mother's voice."

The elf lord's eyes widened as he gazed at his daughter. "When?"

"Just now, before you woke me. I was unsure earlier, but now I feel it for sure. She told me to trust in myself and be strong. She talked to me... she gave me strength. I miss her, father, but even being apart from her, she supports my decision to remain here. It is her will. I can feel it."

Elrond looked away for a long minute before eventually nodding. "Perhaps you are right, child. But I must repeat myself... There is a shadow within you that has taken such a hold of you that I do not know what will happen to you next. I fear the darkness will make you fade away from Middle Earth... If you do not sail to the Undying Lands you will _die_ because of it."

Arwen shook her head as she felt unable to grasp his words. "Ada...-"

"Do you not see?" Elrond interrupted his daughter. "You must listen to me for this is serious. If not for me, then for _him_. If you die and Aragorn is present, forced to watch you succumb to a faith he may not see for many long years, he will be helpless. He will never be able to rule his people then. And do you believe he will be able to live on? He would be more pained by your death than your parting to Valinor. Just as I and all of our kin would be."

The elf maiden said nothing but felt her eyes dim with un-shed tears. Elrond sighed as he watched his youngest child finally grasp his words.

"After Galadriel told me we would part in pain, I was afraid. When we were separated, I thought the worst was over. I don't know, maybe we have stronger storms to weather up ahead... But I am no longer afraid. For I know that if anyone can help me survive this, it is Aragorn. I cannot succumb to fear now, when I am so close to being reunited with him."

The elf lord shook his head. "I know you told me that you would regret leaving him. And yet I do not believe you understand the effect your death would have upon us you go to Valinor, you can save us all the heartbreak. That is the only way for you to survive and for him to be able to create a new life. If you do not you will both succumb and I will have to grieve not only a daughter but also a son."

Arwen turned back to her father as his chosen words made her wonder. "Did you send me that vision then?"

Elrond frowned as if unsure how that was relative and shook his head. "It was sent to you, my child, but not from me. It was your grandmother's doing."

"Why?" Arwen breathed.

"So that you would know how Frodo was doing with his journey and could relay the news to Gandalf and anyone else it may concern."

It was the lady's turn to frown back and slowly she asked, "That was the first vision but I meant the second..."

Elrond seemed as shocked as Arwen as his worried eyes looked down at her. "_Second_ one? You had another vision?"

"I am sure it meant nothing, I am sure it was just…" Arwen searched for the right words but found none to describe the feeling of seeing her beloved with his arms around another woman. "I cannot tell what I saw, the memory is painful still..."

"Arwen, I was not aware of a second vision and my ignorance troubles me," Elrond said and placed his hand on her sleeve. "I am too far away to help you at this time but I will see if I can contact Gandalf and see what he knows on the matter. Perhaps he can help when you are reunited. Whatever you saw, Arwen, has me even more concerned for you now. I think it is of utter most importance that you do come home before you are beyond anyone's help."

"Ada…" she began as silent tears streaked down her cheeks. "I can't leave him…"

Elrond placed his hand on her shoulder and said, "He wants you to endure even if your ways are parted. We both wish only for you to be safe. If you wish to stay then there is nothing I can do for you but hope all will be well in the end. However, I still beg of you to reconsider. Especially after hearing this…"

Arwen remained silent in her thoughts. Finally, she asked, "There is one thing you have not told me yet ... Why is this happening to _me_?"

"There are many things involved with this, Arwen, that I would not know where to start or how to explain. Indeed, I might know less that I thought," Elrond said while he drew a shaky breath. "I wish I could explain it all to you, but I will leave the rest to the one man who knows more than me in this case."

"Mithrandir?" the maiden asked.

Elrond nodded and then took her hand in his with a silent plea in his grey eyes. "Please, take my word of caution. Feel for the shadow within you, Arwen, and you will know it is real. I ask that when you do, you remember what I have said and consider my plea."

Arwen serenely touched her forehead against her father's and then moved back again to face him. "I will, father."

Elrond moved his hand to her cheek as he gently said, "Open your eyes, Arwen."

* * *

Arwen's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at the dark night sky above. Branches covered parts of the skies and twinkling stars up ahead. She was definitely back in Fangorn. She quickly took in her whereabouts and found she rested on the ground by a large root with one of the hobbit's jackets as a make-shift pillow beneath her head. She felt disoriented for another second before she recognized the place as being on Quickbeam's lands and she could hear a spring trickle nearby and the sound of entish reached her keen ears from further away.

"How long was I unconscious?" she asked into the night as she cautiously sat up. Her arrow wound stung more than earlier but the pain quickly faded away as her mind cleared.

Distantly she heard hurried footsteps rustle the leaves and Merry and Pippin were soon in her line of view. Both of them looked relieved as they stood over her.

"Milady, you're awake," Pippin smiled. "You've been unconscious for almost a day. We could not wake you before."

"I am fine, Peregrin. There is nothing to worry about," Arwen assured him with a distant smile as she slowly stood from the ground and brushed leaves off her shirt. "How are the Ents doing in their discussion?"

Merry huffed lightly and said, "They're still talking, of course. But I believe some change might come at daybreak for Quickbeam has been standing over to the side a long while now just waiting for something… I hope they have decided to attack Isengard, for if they have not I promise that I will give them a piece of my mind!"

Arwen chuckled. She still felt a bit dizzy and leaned back against a tree. The hobbits exchanged a worried glance before they wordlessly seated themselves on the ground by her side. They looked up at her but saw that she was lost in her own thoughts and so they chose to remain silent for now. If she wanted their help, they hoped she would ask for it.

The elf maiden found her thoughts wandered back to her conversation with her father. It had been a fair warning of a grim future but she did not wish to despair at the thought of what it implicated. She didn't want to bother the hobbits with her personal problems when their spirits were already down.

Still, she could not fully ignore Elrond's words to her. Arwen focused her thoughts and tried to look within herself. Somewhere deep inside she could feel a darkness lure and a shadow at the back recesses of her mind that she had not realized was ever present. Her father had been right, then. This could mean that she would fade from Middle Earth for reasons she still could not understand. Within her mind she cursed the fact that she remained parted from Aragorn, for there was still a risk that she would die before being reunited with him. At least she knew he was safe from when her mind had wandered to his and found him washed up on the shore. Hurt, yes, but safe.

Eventually, her thoughts shifted to the vision of Aragorn and his happy family. Could her father be right that Aragorn could have that future if she left for Valinor? Maybe that was the reason she had had the vision in the first place. To see what she could do for Aragorn. She knew within her heart that if the roles were reversed and he died, she would not want to keep on living.

She leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree and sat down beside her friends. She wished she could see another solution to all this but dreaded that she would only have one choice in the end. To go to Valinor and be parted from Aragorn. She knew she would never find peace in Valinor but maybe her beloved could still grow a prospering future. Even if it meant without her.

For a while longer, Arwen, Merry and Pippin sat silent by the trees as a new morning's light spread through the forest.

The sun had yet to rise when Merry broke the silence, "I really do hope they make up their minds soon. Earlier today Quickbeam told us he had been close to Orthanc the day before yesterday and heard trumpets playing a foul tune and seen all of Saruman's soldiers leave. He said he saw at least ten thousand soldiers marching away from the dark tower."

Arwen turned to look at the hobbit, "So Orthanc is for the most part unguarded?"

He smiled up at her with a knowing smile. "Indeed it is, my lady."

"Think about it again, Meriadoc," Arwen said. "Perhaps you ought not be so happy about this news. The soldiers of Saruman don't just walk away from their dwelling without purpose and surely not in such quantity either."

"So you mean…?" Merry began but his words trailed off.

"Strider and Gandalf… and…" mumbled Pippin slowly, "They're all in danger, aren't they?"

Arwen nodded when suddenly she heard strangled battle cries in her head. It sounded so close she almost expected to be attacked where she was but knew whatever it was was far away. She could hear swords clash together and arrows strung to bows. She pushed up from the ground and turned to look south at the sky which had yet to illuminate by the sun. The hobbits watched her curiously.

"There is a battle in Helms Deep, the fortress of Rohan. Blood is being spilled this night. Elves, Men and Uruk-hai are dying there. So they went straight for the world of Men…"

The hobbits were even more somber by these news and their faces fell into grave expressions.

"I hope Strider, Gimli and Legolas will be safe," Pippin mumbled.

"They will be, Pip," Merry tried to reassure. "They are all strong warriors, they'll be alright."

"No matter the outcome of this battle, this new dawn will surely bring with it great change," Arwen said.

At that moment, Quickbeam turned to them with a smile upon his tree-like lips. Arwen, Merry and Pippin wondered why he was so joyous when suddenly they all heard a loud entish sound that echoed far and wide through the forest. It sounded like someone was both singing and shouting at the same time.

"They have decided," Quickbeam spoke as he walked towards the hobbits and the elf. He lifted all three of them to sit on his branches and quickly walked through the woods towards Derndingle.

* * *

Quickbeam soon reached the other Entmoot and with his fast steps quickly caught up with Treebeard who was walking in the lead.

"Quickbeam," Treebeard greeted, but before he could say another word Merry spoke up.

"Please tell me we are marching towards Isengard? Because if we are not, I have a few things I would like to tell you!"

Slowly Treebeard waved his arm and Merry waited impatiently for the Ent to answer.

"The Ents are going to war, little hobbit. It is likely that we will face our doom and that this might be the last march of the Ents." Treebeard then reached out a hand towards Merry and Pippin and asked, "For old times' sake, would you two young hobbits go with me on this march?"

The two hobbits quickly climbed into Treebeard's waiting hand and the Ent merrily lifted the two and put them on each of his shoulder

Arwen looked down at Quickbeam's face and said, "I can walk, you know. It is very kind of you to carry me but I can walk if I am a burden to you this way."

"Walk? Burden?" Quickbeam asked and his wooden voice sounded almost offended. "Oh no, not after what happened to you yesterday! You will remain safe with me, my lady."

Arwen bowed her head and then turned to Treebeard. "Fangorn, there is something you ought to know. The Uruk-hai of Isengard have journeyed to the human fortress Helm's Deep; there is a heavy battle there at this hour. I do not know for how long they have fought but I do know that they could need help."

Treebeard glanced at her and nodded slowly, "The sun has risen here, and will soon do the same over Helm's Deep. With a sunrise comes new hope. I know what it is you ask and I do believe it will be wisest to send some Huorns to aid them. I will do so as soon as we reach Isengard."

"And when will that be?" Pippin asked.

"Oh, with our wide steps it ought not take too long, master hobbit. But then again, we do seem to have different perspectives of the term 'long'," Treebeard mused.

"No matter how long it takes," Pippin began and a small smile finally played on his lips, "I am positive you can defeat the wizard, Treebeard."

"_We_, master Peregrin. We can defeat him," Treebeard said and then suddenly seemed lost in thought. "You know, much has happened in my long life but I never thought it would lead to this. I wish I could have seen Fimbrethil once more. I do wish with all my heart that she had been here with me, in case this turns out to be my last march."

They marched onward and more and more Ents joined the lines behind Treebeard, and soon many hundreds of Huorns accompanied them as well. A while later they finally reached the land of Isengard and looked up at the wall around it.

Quickbeam shouted, "The tree-killer! The tree-killer!" and started running towards the gate. Arwen bounced up and down with the Ent's wide steps and looked down as she saw the white-clad Saruman hurry to escape inside his safe tower. Unfortunately, the wizard made it in time and Quickbeam stopped below the tower to guard it so that the wizard could not sneak out.

Behind them the Ents had already begun to break apart the gate and threw huge rocks at it as well as destroying the machinery of the tower's outer defenses.

"Release the river!" Treebeard's rumbling voice echoed across the grounds as Orcs ran around with torches in a desperate attempt to kill the trees around them. The river's blockage was forcefully removed and the waters instantly flooded Isengard and its underground tunnels. Whatever fires had burned beneath the ground were forever extinguished and no more darkness could be created within them.

Saruman's reign over Isengard had finally come to an end.


	19. Reunited

**19. Reunited **

Aragorn stood in the chamber he shared with Boromir, Legolas and Gimli in the city of Edoras. Try as he might, he could not keep the smile off his face.

Three days ago the battle of Helm's Deep had been won, partly because of the unexpected help of the elves and partly (as most seemed to believe) because of the leadership of one particular ranger. Though Aragorn could not take any credit, he was grateful for the people's belief in him and the fact that they had followed him into victory. They had all lost many friends on that rainy night, but now felt that they had turned over a new leaf. From here, things could go finally go up and become a brighter tomorrow. Aragorn himself had felt the hope rise within him anew when he had seen Gandalf and Éomer upon the ridge with the latter's band of warriors. It had been the final thrust and what had finally won them the battle at daybreak.

Not many hours after their victory, king Théoden had decided his people were safe enough to be brought back to their homes and they had made the long journey back to the city at the mount, to which they had arrived merely hours before.

Aragorn had noticed Gandalf and Théoden bicker on the way back and had learned that the wizard wished for a small group to take another path instead of returning to Edoras at this time. Gandalf had wished to go to Isengard as soon as he could, but had eventually agreed to wait. Théoden still wanted his old friend by his side as his people settled back in Edoras. The king had told the ranger the discussion had been easily won and Aragorn pondered if this meant that Gandalf dreaded the upcoming meeting with Saruman at the same time as he knew it was inevitable. Irregardless, Aragorn, too, had a desire to leave for the dark tower, albeit for different reasons, and had ended up urging the king to change his plans.

Théoden knew he owed the man much for what he had done for the king's people and reluctantly had given his consent. Time was of the essence, after all, and the wizard needed to be brought down before he could flee. They had decided to leave shortly after getting everyone back to Edoras and with those words the king had managed to lift Aragorn's heart to the skies.

As the ranger walked back and forth in the room to prepare to ride out, he felt almost giddy as a child, it was a feeling the usually collected ranger was fairly unused to but still treasured greatly. If they were to set out for Orthanc, Aragorn was surely to be reunited with Arwen in only a matter of hours. The mere thought widened his grin as he changed outfit.

He shrugged on his hauberk over the red tunic he already wore and then finished off with his jerkin on top. Just as he buttoned up his jerkin there was a knock on the wooden door. Aragorn turned as the lady Éowyn walked in, clad in a velvet green dress and a golden belt made in the resemblance of horses in full run. There was almost a timid look in her pale eyes and she bowed her head courtly before asking, "My lord Théoden wishes you to know that they are prepared to set out. He wishes to know if you are as well?"

"Ah," Aragorn said with a smile as he finished buttoning the shirt. He leaned down and picked up his sword from the bed and strapped the belt around his hips. "You can tell him that I am ready… Do you know what? I believe I will tell him myself, milady."

He turned to the lady then and saw the intense look in her eyes as she beheld him in return. In her blue eyes he could see desire mixed with despair and her gaze reminded him of the sky on a cloudy day. He could not understand her sudden sadness for she had been so joyful since they had won at Helm's Deep. Aragorn had hoped this meant the lady would smile more often, but had apparently been hoping in vain.

"Is something wrong, milady?" he asked with a frown as his smile momentarily wiped from his face.

She seemed surprised at his words and immediately shook her head, "Nay, my lord. I am well."

"You do not look it. You look troubled," he pointed out. "I see no need for such a frown. Smile, be cheerful, fair maiden. Rohan is safe and so are its people. We have won a great battle and now we ride to Isengard to defeat the wizard who remains there."

"I am happy about all of that, my lord. I truly am," she said gently but the joy still escaped her eyes.

"Then would you please smile for me?" he asked and saw a blush creep up her cheeks but she smiled nonetheless.

Aragorn watched her intently for he could still feel that something bothered her but he could not put his finger on it. As she looked up at him again he suddenly felt a pang of guilt for in her eyes he saw how her infatuation for him had grown into something more. Something, which he would never be able to share with her. He wished she knew he could never give his heart to her. At the same time he had not the heart to tell her in so many words. Yet, he wondered as he saw her saddened eyes, perhaps she already knew she could never be his.

"You will bring them back here, will you not?" Éowyn asked and Aragorn thought he heard a hint of resentment in her voice.

Aragorn frowned. "Who?"

"Your friends. The hobbits and your lady, my lord?" she asked and suddenly Aragorn realized the reason for her grief. The fair maiden was darkened with jealousy. Aragorn once more felt his heart constrict as he beheld her.

"Yes, I will bring them to Edoras," he said and stepped close to her. "But there is no need for your frown. I am certain you will like them, all three of them."

"Forgive me for doubting, lord Aragorn," she said and avoided his eyes.

"Trust me. They are all good people," Aragorn placed a friendly hand on her shoulder and hoped she would not misinterpret it. The dazed look she gave him told him that she had done just that. He inhaled deeply and opened his mouth to speak further when suddenly lord Éomer entered the room with a wide grin of his own.

"Here is my baby-sister, how I have looked for you everywhere. I do hope I am not interrupting anything important?" Éomer asked looking from his sister to Aragorn and the ranger removed his hand from her shoulder.

"Nay, my lord," Aragorn spoke and glanced briefly at the fair-haired woman. "Are we ready to ride to Isengard?"

"Aye," Éomer nodded. "We're just waiting for you, lord Aragorn."

"Then I will keep you waiting no further. Let us depart so that our return may be swift."

Éomer laid a brotherly hand on his sister's shoulder and she smiled up at him momentarily and then turned her head back in Aragorn's direction. He bowed his head and then exited along with the fair-haired man. Éowyn remained alone in the room and silently watched the men walk away from her.

* * *

"_Noro lim, Brego,_" Aragorn whispered to his brown stallion and the horse walked faster between the trees of Fangorn. Aragorn patted the horse's neck and smiled. He could not wait to be reunited with Arwen and the time was coming ever closer. Two days ago they had set out from Edoras and he knew they were not far from Isengard's boundaries now.

"Wait for the rest of us, Aragorn!" Gimli called from where he sat secure behind Legolas on a white mount.

"Then be swift, my friend!" the ranger called back with a smile.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Aragorn?" asked Éomer from his own saddle. A curious smile played across his lips as he saw his friend's eagerness.

Aragorn turned back to watch Éomer whom, apart from the horse he sat upon, held the reins to a grey mare. It was a gift to Arwen from king Théoden between their races. It had, after all, been her kin which had sent elves to aid them at Helm's deep. The ranger only answered the fair-haired man's question with a wink and urged his horse forwards.

Around him the dark trees were silent and still. The sun shone through the tree crowns and Aragorn smiled at the scenery. He could sense that even though the trees were mystical and ancient there was a new feeling of peace among them. The woods seemed much different from when he, Legolas, Gimli and Boromir had seen them last time. He took this as a sure sign that all had gone well at Isengard.

Suddenly Shadowfax came to the front of their group with Gandalf atop its proud back and the wizard smiled at the ranger.

"Be patient, Aragorn. We will soon see them," Gandalf said and his eyes twinkled knowingly. "The two of you will soon be reunited."

"Is it far, Gandalf?" Boromir asked from where he rode at the very back of the line next to king Théoden.

"No, we are definitely not far now," Gandalf answered with a smile as he rode past the ranger and took the lead. "I can hear our friends already."

Aragorn listened carefully and sure enough he could hear Merry and Pippin's familiar laughter ahead. The ranger felt relief to hear they were in such great spirit despite all they had been through since the start of their journey. At least some things seemed never to change.

The row of trees ended shortly in front of the horses and the group rode out into open sunshine and onto the lands of Saruman's reign. Upon the remains of a shattered wall in front of them sat the two hobbits side by side like old days. Pippin was the first of the two who laid his eyes on the approaching company and chortled loudly as Merry stood up to greet them.

"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" he proclaimed proudly and held out his arms to indicate the water-filled ground around the tower of Orthanc. The newly arrived group had to admit this was all better news than they had expected. Further away they could see the shapes of Ents who moved about and Aragorn strained his neck and searched for the elf-maiden but she seemed nowhere in sight.

Then Pippin suddenly chortled once again as his eyes landed on Boromir.

"I don't believe it!" the hobbit cried and obvious relief was in his shrill voice as he pulled on Merry's shirt. "Merry! Merry, look! Boromir is not dead, did I not tell you? Did I not tell you, Merry?"

Boromir smiled affectionately up at the hobbits as he rode closer, "Ah, little ones, it pleases me greatly to see that you are safe. I am sor-"

"Do not attempt to apologize!" Merry said sourly and all turned to him in surprise. None had expected the hobbit to be mad at the Gondorian. Merry's face soon broke into a wide grin, "Do not apologize, lord Boromir, for there is nothing to apologize for!"

The Gondorian shook his head and laughed as Gimli spoke, "Is that… pork?"

"_Salted _pork," Pippin pointed out and waved his hand filled with the glorious food in question.

Gimli's eyes widened in disbelief and hunger. "I don't… I don't suppose you have any to share, do you?"

"Sure we do. Lots of it too!" Merry exclaimed. "We found Saruman's secret food storage. He's got some of the best tobacco too. He may be an awful wizard but there's nothing wrong with his taste, I tell you that."

Pippin threw some salted pork to Gimli but Legolas caught it mid-air and proceeded to chew on it instead. Behind the elf's back, Gimli grumbled. Aragorn shook his head at his friends as Gandalf sighed up at the hobbits.

"Though I am sure we have much to speak about, I do not have time to remain at this moment," Gandalf said and then turned to the king behind him. Both the king's and his nephew's pale eyes gazed up at the two hobbits in amusement for they had never before seen a half-ling. "Come, Théoden, will you ride with me to meet Treebeard, protector of Fangorn?"

"Only if my nephew may come too," Théoden said as he nodded proudly.

"Of course," Gandalf nodded quickly.

Gandalf then turned to the ranger on his right and spoke, "Will you remain with Meriadoc and Peregrin? I have much to discuss with Treebeard and fear that it will only bore the hobbits if they come with. You may keep them company and regale them of all your adventures."

"We will stay here," Aragorn nodded though he wished he could come with to seek for his elf maiden.

Gandalf smiled and with Théoden and Éomer rode off, leaving Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli to catch up with their old friends.

"So…" Pippin began as he looked at the riders one by one as his one smile widened in relieved hope. "What exactly have you been up to?"

"It is a long story," Legolas responded and jumped from his horse to sit on the wall next to Pippin as he munched on his pork.

"We've got time," Pippin said and leaned back on his palms. Yes, the hobbit felt his hope surge once more. Their friends were alive and well, perhaps he had been surrendering to the darkness of the world too soon. Perhaps their chance to turn Middle Earth around was still blooming strong.

* * *

Théoden rode behind the white wizard as he gazed about him at the completely drenched grounds around the tower. It baffled him greatly that Ents and Half-lings had been able to do all of this. That Ents and Hobbits had been able to beat such a mighty wizard as Saruman.

Suddenly a long, dark shadow swept over the king and his nephew and they looked up at a magnificent Ent which had joined their side not far from the tower. Awestruck, the two men stopped their horses and looked up at the creature in silence.

"Ah, Treebeard," Gandalf greeted and the Ent bowed his head in return.

"It is nice to see you have come back at this time, Gandalf."

Suddenly, another voice rang clear in the morning. It was smooth and soft and nothing like rumblings of an Ent. "_Gandalf_? You have returned then to see our achievements."

Both Théoden and Éomer looked down at the new character who appeared by the Ent's side, wading through the knee-deep water. She was an elf woman, fair beyond belief, and Théoden heard his nephew draw a surprised breath.

"_Mae govannen_, Arwen," Gandalf greeted as he smiled down at her.

Arwen returned the smile and then turned her attention to the two foreigners as they rode forward. Both of the fair-haired men bowed too her and she did the same in return.

"Good day, milady," Théoden spoke. "I am Théoden, King of Rohan, and this is my nephew, Éomer, son of Éomund."

"Good day. I'm Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond, lord of Imladris," she greeted in return.

"So we are told from a most reliable source," said Théoden and thought he saw a sparkle in her eyes. With a smile he continued, "Your friends are over by the gate and I suppose you would like to be reunited with them. Before you leave I would like to bestow upon you a gift, from a king to a daughter of the high-born as a thank you for your people's aid when we needed it the most."

Théoden indicated the second horse, which Éomer still held the reins to, and Arwen walked over to it. She gently placed her hand on the grey horse's muzzle.

"She is elvish," Arwen said, it wasn't a question but more of a statement.

"Indeed," Éomer spoke as he handed her the reins. "Her name is Eirien. She was found in the wilderness a couple of years ago, wandering alone and frightened of almost everything. We do not know who her former master was, but we fear he was slain by orcs."

"_Mae Govannen_, Eirien," Arwen whispered to the mare before she swiftly mounted the horse. "She is a beautiful creature and I greatly appreciate this gift. I only wish I had something I could bestow upon you in return, but that will have wait. I thank you most ardently, my lords."

She bowed her head to the horsemen and to Gandalf who smiled in return.

"Go to them," the wizard urged and did not have to repeat the statement before she turned the horse towards the shattered wall in the distance and rode off.

* * *

Upon the ruins of the wall, the six friends were still reminiscing on memories of days past when suddenly Legolas turned to glance behind. With a grin he nudged Aragorn, who was lying down with his pipe, and the ranger hurriedly sat up.

When he turned around he saw her. Arwen rode towards them in full speed and her hair flowed free in the wind. Her face broke into a warm smile and as she came closer, Aragorn nimbly leaped from the wall to meet her.

The elf maiden barely slowed her mare down as she gracefully jumped from it. As her feet touched the ground, she kept running towards the ranger and into his open arms. Aragorn embraced Arwen tight and spun her around as he breathed in her scent and felt her warmth against him again. He heard her clear laughter and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

_Too long_, Aragorn thought to himself. _It has been far too long._

He placed her down on the ground once more and buried his face in the nook of her neck.

"_Manenna_?" he heard her soft voice ask into his own hair. _(How are you?)_

"_Nan mara_," he responded and his voice muffled against her soft skin. _(I am well.)_

She pulled back with the grin still wide on her glowing face and leaned in for a kiss when suddenly Gimli's rumbling, amused voice interrupted,

"And I suppose you have all but forgotten about the rest of us?"

Arwen turned and looked up at the wall and smiled at the dwarf. "Certainly not! If you were but in reach now I would surely plant a kiss upon your cheek, master dwarf. I have missed you that much!"

Gimli's eyes sparkled in amused contentment as he settled for a bow of the head. The elf maiden's eyes then flew to Legolas, the elf returned her smile full force and with a simple nod assured her he was all right. Her eyes then traveled over to Boromir's form and she couldn't conceal her surprised gasp.

"You are alive," she breathed. "We thought you had been killed..."

"I didn't," Pippin pointed out and then feebly shrugged. "Well, at least not at first…"

"I am very much alive, and I have you to thank for that," Boromir said and nodded down at the elf.

"We have each other to thank for both of us staying alive," Arwen said but her attention was soon drawn back to the ranger whose arms still encircled her.

His eyes hadn't left her face once even as she had talked to the others. Gently his hand traced the edge of her jaw and he leaned his forehead to hers as he released a relieved breath he wasn't aware of having kept locked inside.

"Not that this isn't cute and all," Merry pointed out as Aragorn and Arwen turned to watch him, "But don't you think we ought to go over to Gandalf. At least I know I'm curious as to what he'll do with Saruman, and don't want to miss it."

"I believe you are most right, Meriadoc. I must agree I am a bit curious myself," Legolas said and with an elegant move he jumped atop of his waiting horse.

The others too went to their horses, with Merry riding behind Boromir and Pippin behind Aragorn, as all of them headed towards the dark tower further away. When they reached the massive building; Treebeard, Théoden and Éomer met them outside.

"Where is Gandalf?" Aragorn asked.

"Just around the corner," Éomer explained and nodded over to the side. Everyone turned to look and there they saw Gandalf upon Shadowfax. He sat stoic and kept a patient watch on the tower with an unfaltering gaze.

"And where is Saruman?" Aragorn inquired further.

"The wizard has locked himself into his tower… alongside his ally, _Wormtongue_."

"Wormtongue?" Merry whispered up to Boromir but the Gondorian merely shook his head.

Boromir whispered back, "It is a long story, I will tell you when we are away from this dark place."

They all rode over to join Gandalf's side but the wizard didn't even acknowledge their presence. Unsure what else to do, the others turned to look up as well and waited.

After a while, the wizard spoke, "Be on your guard."

The members of the fellowship exchanged smiles upon hearing his familiar words, it was the same warning he had given them in Moria. The memory seemed so ancient after all that had happened since, but still reminded them that Gandalf, though no longer the Grey Pilgrim, was still himself at heart.

"Saruman may have locked himself in, and his home demolished," Gandalf continued, unaware of the others thoughts, "but he is not yet defeated. He will use every cowardly trick he can muster to get out of this one alive."

"Do you speak ill of all your old friends?" A dark voice boomed across Isengard.

"_Look_!" Pippin shouted and pointed to the balcony far up on the tower.

Standing at the edge, looking down at them were none other than the dark, white wizard himself. He looked down at them all with contempt as he gazed at their company. "I see not the need for such… maliciousness. Do you, Théoden King? You and I were once friends. You are a kind and forgiving man, what say you to taking counsel with me again, as we once did? Can we not have peace, you and I?"

Théoden's face contorted into a furious grimace as he responded with a hate he had never felt before, he promised Saruman that there would never be peace unless Saruman was dead. The wizard's confident smirk was wiped from his face before he turned to Gandalf.

"Why have you come here, Gandalf Greyhame?" Saruman asked. "Is it for the key of Orthanc? Or a desire to know things you should not concern yourself with? Do not think I do not understand your intentions. You want information from me. Well, I have some for you."

The others exchanged worried looks as Saruman began to profess; "A great shadow festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. The Great Eye has seen it, he has discovered his advantage and pushes onward. And you have yet not noticed his work. His attack will come soon and from within. He knows your weakest points and he will use it. You will all die."

Saruman looked down at Gandalf who had ridden close to the tower upon hearing his enemy's warning. Saruman smiled and proclaimed, "But you do know this already, don't you, Gandalf? You are a fool for thinking that this mere _ranger_ will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. Not with his weaknesses, not with his frail bloodline. I hope you know, _ranger_, that Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love... Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Half-ling before you sent him to his doom, Greyhame? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death."

Both Gandalf and Aragorn lowered their heads as Gimli nudged Legolas in front of him on the horse. "I have heard enough. Shoot him down. Stick an arrow in his gob!"

"_No_," Gandalf spoke quickly before the elf could react. He turned back up to the wizard and spoke in a calm voice, "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared!"

Saruman smiled cunningly. "Why not come inside instead, old friend? I can unlock the doors for you, and only you. In here you will find all the answers that you seek…"

Gandalf was not affected by the trick Saruman was attempting and simply said, "Saruman, your staff is broken."

As he said it, the white staff of Saruman shattered into several pieces and fell over the side of the tower and vanished into the waters below. The wizard staggered and hope seemed to die out in his pale eyes. Behind Saruman a familiar foe appeared dressed all in black. Théoden recognized him at once.

"Grima?" he called out and the man moved closer and looked down at his former lord. "Come down. Be free of him."

"_Free_?" Saruman laughed menacingly without even throwing his companion a glance. "He will never be free."

Saruman pushed Grima away from him. The sad man quickly disappeared inside and Saruman turned back to watch Gandalf as the other wizard spoke,

"Saruman! You were deep in the enemy's council. Tell us what you know! The only way for you to come out of that tower of yours is to cooperate with us."

Saruman seemed to consider this briefly before a shadow swept over his face and he turned quickly and entered his tower once again. They figured their battle was over, the wizard had made his choice and would not leave his tower or give them any of his valuable information. Just as the company turned to leave, something round came flying out of a window further up the tower. It was a heavy, dark ball that hit the water by Gandalf's side. The stone shimmered in the murky water and Pippin immediately jumped from Aragorn's horse. He waded over to the round stone and carefully picked it out of the water. It was a _Palantír_.

"Bless my bark!" Treebeard uttered in shock and Gandalf quickly rode over to the hobbit.

"Peregrin Took, I'll take that my lad," the wizard said and held out his waiting hand. "Quickly now."

After a few, short seconds of indecisiveness Pippin handed the Palantír to Gandalf and the wizard wrapped it safely in his white robe. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

Aragorn rode over to Pippin and helped the hobbit up on the horse again. Cautiously the hobbit threw a glance in Gandalf's direction but refrained from making a comment as he tried to lessen his curiousness.

"Send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle-Earth that still stands free," said Gandalf grimly. "The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike. Come now, we ride back to Edoras. There is nothing more for us here. Farewell, Treebeard. I leave you to guard Saruman until this is over."

"Farewell, Gandalf," Treebeard said and looked up at Merry and Pippin who waved their goodbyes to him as the horses took them away from their protector and friend.

* * *

After a long ride, Gandalf stopped his white steed and gazed at the city of Edoras before him on the hillside. Their journey was almost done and though Saruman was not yet defeated, much had been gained from this last trip. The fellowship, apart from Sam and Frodo, had been reunited at last.

The white wizard turned back and gazed at the others riding closely behind him. At the far end of the line, quite the distance after the others, rode Arwen and Aragorn side by side. Gandalf saw how they quietly talked with one another and now and then smiled in adoration.

Gandalf inhaled deeply. If only the two of them knew of the lurking shadows that were soon to descend upon them. The wizard had sensed it long ago. He knew that what Saruman had said was true. And there was at least one place Gandalf knew that Sauron would strike. He could only hope they were ready for it.

* * *

"Are you truly unharmed?" Arwen asked. "I know the battle of Hornburg was fierce-"

"I am safe," Aragorn interrupted with a smile and pointedly looked at the elf by his side. "And so are you."

She smiled at him but turned her eyes away. Aragorn frowned and opened his mouth to ask her about it when she suddenly turned back and asked, "Tell me more of where we are going. How's it like - Edoras? Are the people friendly like their masters, King Théoden and Lord Éomer?"

Aragorn smiled at Arwen. In the back of his mind, he remembered Éowyn's jealousy before he had left and slowly nodded. "...I _think _you will like it there."

Arwen turned to the ranger and smiled. Her eyes briefly travelled to his lips and desire sparkled in her shimmering, silvery eyes, "I'm sure I will…"

"Oh," Aragorn suddenly remembered himself and pulled out two gauntlets from his belt. "These belong to you. I've kept them safe for you. It was a clever idea to lead us in the right direction."

Arwen smiled as she took them back from his outstretched hand. Their fingers graced briefly before she pulled her hand away. She looked down at the gauntlets as she smiled, "_Hannon le_."

The ranger smiled and conspicuously moved his horse closer to the elf maiden's mare. "You have no notion of how much I have missed you these past weeks, how worried I have been. I am most happy to see you safe again. _At last_."

"Me too," Arwen smiled and leaned closer to him. He leaned in her direction also and their lips met in the middle in a gentle, but reassuring, kiss.

Suddenly, the couple heard a throat being cleared and they pulled apart. Both turned and looked down at Pippin who smiled innocently from where he sat on the horse behind Aragorn.

"Just wanted to remind you that I was still here..." he said and smiled apologetically.


	20. The Golden Halls of Meduseld

**20. The Golden Halls of Meduseld**

Arriving in Edoras proved an interesting occurrence for both hobbits and Arwen as citizens stepped out of their houses to watch the group of riders as they rode past. Many of the simple people smiled up at the members of the fellowship and their gratitude shone clear in their eyes, as if they had been given hope anew by the foreigners.

When the riders reached the stables and dismounted, Théoden swiftly stepped over to the half-lings to properly greet them. He had heard much of them from the others in the fellowship and knew they deserved to be treated with as much honor as the rest of them, despite standing only half as tall as the others.

"Welcome to Edoras, my small friends," the king said and warmly smiled down at them. "I welcome you to my city now and promise you that you will always be welcome in the future, should you ever wish to return."

"Thank you very much, my lord," Merry said as Pippin bowed his head.

"Come now, let me see if I can offer you a light meal after our journey," with those words, Théoden started leading the way up the hill with the two hobbits close by his side.

Arwen moved to follow when a hand on her sleeve stopped her. She stopped and looked up at Legolas by her side. The blond elf wordlessly held out his hand for her and Arwen looked down at Hadhafang in his grip. With a distant smile, she gratefully took it back from him.

"_Hannon le, Legolas_," she said solemnly as memories of the day she had lost it flashed through her mind. "I thought I had lost it forever..."

"Come now," Gimli huffed and pushed on the two elves to move forward. "I am hungry and do not want to miss this chance at food since I did not get any salted pork like _some _of us did..."

Boromir, Legolas, Gandalf and Gimli walked off to follow Théoden up the hill and as they walked, their conversation turned to matters of peace and friendship.

Arwen conspicuously glanced at Aragorn still inside the stables who was talking with lord Éomer about the horses. The elf maiden noticed how peaceful her ranger looked, more so than she had ever seen him before. For many years she had grown accustomed to his worry and need for exile, but all that seemed to have vanished from him now. There was a new-found confidence in him and Arwen knew what it was immediately; Aragorn had finally come to peace with his destiny and begun to accept it.

Without waiting for the two men, Arwen followed her friends and to headed for the large building atop the mount. As she walked up the stairs, she allowed herself a second to look inside herself for the shadow within. Since she had laid eyes on Aragorn, she had noticed the shadow had not stirred within her. However, Arwen feared that was only temporary. She was drawn from her dark thoughts as she felt something squeeze the palm of her hand and as she turned she saw Aragorn had caught up to her.

She smiled at him and looked down at their joint hands, "Was it something you wanted?"

There was an unspoken question in his eyes as he searched her gaze for something. "You looked like you were a million miles away in spirit. Tell me, what was on your mind just now?"

"Nothing which cannot wait 'til an other day," she smiled. He nodded, and together they entered the Golden Halls of Meduseld.

Arwen looked around the vast throne room and was amazed, it was so different from Imladris still held a beauty of its own. In the middle of the rustic room stood a large fireplace with cold ashes from previous nights in its center. Far on the other end of the room was the wooden royal throne.

Over on the side, Théoden was talking animatedly to Pippin and Merry about something while the others were gathered around a table beside them. Arwen moved to join them but stopped mid-step. She felt a presence approach them which she had not met before but still sensed she somehow recognized. She turned to an open doorway further away as a woman with golden hair walked into the room. She wore a white dress and her hair loose and flowing around her slender body. The woman stopped as she beheld them all and then smiled as she walked over to her uncle and brother to welcome them back home.

"Meriadoc, Peregrin, lady Arwen… I would like you to meet my beloved niece; lady Éowyn," Théoden said and placed a fatherly arm around the woman's shoulder. Éowyn smiled down at the hobbits seated around the table and then her eyes flew to the elven maid. The fair woman walked over to the elf maiden as Aragorn watched them with an unfaltering gaze from where he reclined against a pillar not far away.

Arwen smiled warmly at the woman and greeted her, "_Mae Govannen_, Éowyn, daughter of kings."

"Well met, milady," Éowyn said and bowed her head a fraction.

"I am Arwen Undómiel," Arwen said. "And I am happy to finally be in the presence of another woman. Men, in any form, are always great travel company, yet I still feel it has been too long since I laid eyes on a woman. I feel joy to have met you and am assured we will be great friends."

Éowyn seemed a bit reserved by hearing this admission, but smiled nonetheless and held out her arms. "Milady, you look battered and worn. Come with me and I shall help you clean up and perhaps find you a dress now that you are no longer on the road."

"Thank you," Arwen smiled as Éowyn started leading her out of the room.

"Before you go, niece," Théoden's voice stopped them and both women turned back to the king. "I would simply like to tell you, while we are all gathered here, that tonight we shall have a dinner among friends and allies to celebrate."

"Perhaps I can be of service with the food?" Éowyn asked. Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir quickly exchanged worried glances.

"Perhaps," Théoden consented after a moment of hesitation. "For today and all other days, I welcome you to my home, friends. What we have accomplished this week is far beyond what my land has done for a long, long while. We conquered the Orcs at Helm's Deep. We scared the white wizard of Isengard. This we have done with pride. It was not without a fair struggle, I will not lie and say otherwise, but we did come out victorious. My people deserve to feel peace after what they have been through and at last... it is time to _celebrate_. Hence, tomorrow night we shall hold a feast. We shall celebrate with ale and food and songs. We will show the world that we are still alive!"

"Yes, _tomorrow_, uncle," Éowyn said with a gentle smile. "Tonight we rest and recover."

With that Éowyn once more turned and lead the elf maiden from the room. The fair maiden walked a few paces ahead of Arwen and the elven lady found that to be a small relief, though petty it might seem. Already before Théoden had introduced this woman Arwen had known whom she was, not by name but by face. She had seen this woman before in her vision. This was the woman Aragorn had been married to in the second vision, this was the woman Aragorn could choose and have a bright and happy future with.

Éowyn stopped by a door and nodded towards it, "This is my chamber and during your stay here Théoden has asked that you share it with me."

Without further ado, Éowyn opened the great wooden door and motioned with her arm for Arwen to enter first. As the two women stepped inside the simple chamber, the elf maiden turned back to the shield maiden.

"You may choose the dress of your liking, I will return shortly to help you with your hair, milady."

"Thank you, lady Éowyn. You are most kind to me," Arwen smiled.

The fair maiden lingered a moment longer, her gaze never leaving the elf's face, before she smiled hurriedly and walked away down the hallway.

* * *

Arwen sighed and looked down at the dress she'd changed into. It was a cream white simple dress with long, wide sleeves and she felt almost awkward in it. It was not that it had been a long time since she'd worn women's clothes instead of her travel outfit, but rather the fact that this particular dress was not her, that it was _Éowyn's_.

A knock on the heavy door brought Arwen out of her thoughts and she turned as Éowyn entered. When the lady saw the elf maiden, she seemed to hesitate for a second before she walked over to her.

"Let me help you with that braid of yours," Éowyn said and begun to un-braid Arwen's hair in silence. The elf-maiden felt the tension rise in the room but was unsure what to say to ease the situation, something which amazed the elven lady. It was not often Arwen Evenstar was speechless.

"I must say," Éowyn began at length, "that I am most curious as to how you did it."

"Did what, milady?" Arwen asked. She felt pleased that the shield maiden had been the one to start a conversation.

"How you, a woman, was allowed a place in the Fellowship of the Ring."

Arwen smiled and shrugged. "I sometimes ponder that myself. I suppose it was mostly luck. I happened to be at the right place at the right time, with people who can influence even the greatest. That is not to say that I did not have some rough patches to cross on my path... In the end though, I did not waver in my opinion and came out victorious. If I have learned anything during my long life it is to never surrender if you truly want something. With patience and a strong will you can have almost all you want."

Éowyn nodded slowly and let the words sink in. After a few moments of silence Éowyn's hands slowly fell away from the dark hair and thoughtfully she said, "If I may be so bold as to ask… how old are you, milady?"

"Ah," Arwen laughed. "Far too old to compare age, friend."

Éowyn smiled back at her and resumed her work on the braid. "I must say I feel somewhat envious of you, lady Arwen. I wish I could have gone on a quest like yours. But that chance is long gone... It is only a dream, I suppose. To fight for one's beliefs… I wish I could do the same. I would want nothing more than to honor and protect my people in battle. I have the strength to do so, as well, though no one seems to admit it. A woman in armor is most often scorned over even though women of my country learned to brandish a sword long ago. We are, even so, most often kept out of war."

Arwen frowned and exhaled slowly. "Someday perhaps even you shall fight out there. But I would not consider it an honor. War, to me, has always been a place of hate. I find no joy in taking someone else's life, even if that life belongs to someone evil."

"Then you and I have a different opinion of war," Éowyn said with a vague smile.

Arwen frowned but remained silent, feeling this was not her place to speak out.

"Do you know what I wish, my lady?" Éowyn asked and the elf plainly saw the woman's heart on display. "I wish not to be kept under tight reins. I wish I could be set free and do as I wish. I wish to have a _meaningful_ life, to do battle instead of wasting away in here. I wish to lead the life of _my choice_ and when I die Simbelmynë shall grow on my tomb proclaiming 'Here lies the White Lady of Rohan, she died choosing her own way. May she finally find peace in death.'..."

Arwen turned around to face the fair maiden and stood form her chair. Her eyes met Éowyn's pale ones and in them saw fear and anger reflected. "Nay, milady. Do not wish for that. Wish for a better life where nothing will stop you but yourself but do not wish for bloody battles to get it. There are other alternatives to the world you wish for. If you are patient and strong-"

Éowyn shook her head and interrupted the elf, "There are other alternatives for sure. But none which I desire."

"Do you have a longing for death, lady Éowyn?" Arwen braved to ask. "For if you do not succeed in your wishes then that is what you will face."

The life and energy seemed to die out in the shield maiden's eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. As she spoke a touch of frost crept into her voice, "If I die, then at least I will have died by following my own choice. Milady, with all do respect, this is _my _choice. And it was made a long time ago. It is the only thing I desire , nothing more…"

At this Éowyn's eyes suddenly lowered and Arwen knew the woman had left out something from her speech. There was something more, or rather _someone_, the fair maiden wanted.

"Thank you for your help, lady Éowyn," Arwen bowed her head and Éowyn met her gaze once more. "I shall require no further assistance and I am sure you have other shores that must be done before tonight's dinner. Let me know if I may be of assistance to you."

"Yes, of course, milady," Éowyn said and curtsied before leaving the room.

Arwen's eyes followed the fair-haired woman until she was out of sight. With a deep sigh, Arwen turned away.

* * *

"Friends, a toast!" Théoden proclaimed as he raised his own cup into the air. The others around the table lifted their cups as well and awaited the toast from the king. "Tonight we dine as equals, tonight we are all victors. A toast to us, may we never be forgotten."

"Here, here!" Gimli hollered and took a deep swig of his ale. The others did the same, although more moderately than the dwarf. Dinner conversation soon started up again all around the table. One of the few silent ones was Arwen. Her mind had drifted to the subject of Éowyn and Aragorn instead of the food upon her plate.

Suddenly a hand was placed on her hand that rested on the tabletop. She turned to the side where Boromir watched her from the seat beside her.

"Why are you not eating, my lady?" the Gondorian asked and a hint of worry filled his voice.

Arwen's response was to take a bite from her bread. Boromir smiled at her and turned back to his conversation with Merry on his other side.

"Arwen," Aragorn said to her and she turned her eyes in his direction. On the opposite side of the long table, the ranger smiled back. There was a mystical twinkle in his blue eyes, "Would you care for some soup?"

"Please," she responded and the ranger took both their plates over to the lit fireplace and the cauldron that was filled with a brown soup still simmering over the heat.

When the ranger returned, both plates were filled to the brim with the warm liquid. Aragorn placed one plate in front of Arwen, but to her surprise he placed the other in front of Pippin on his left side.

Pippin immediately dug into the offered soup while Arwen frowned over at Aragorn. The ranger smiled mischievously but said nothing. Arwen smiled back, somewhat confused, and reached for her spoon. Before she could eat any of the offered food though, she heard Gimli clear his throat. She looked over at him where he sat two seats away from Aragorn as he subtly shook his head at her. The elf-maiden immediately put the spoon back on the table.

"Tell me, lady Arwen," Aragorn said quite loud, "is the soup to your liking?"

The elf-maiden frowned once more at her beloved who seemed to be enjoying a joke she did not understand. A few seats to her left, Éowyn turned from her conversation with Théoden to watch the elf as well.

"Do you care for the soup, my lady?" Éowyn asked. "It was I who made it."

"I haven't tasted it yet," Arwen glanced once more to Gimli before she raised her spoon and took a sip of the warm soup. The strange liquid made its way down her throat and Arwen coughed from the hot spices in its mixture. Boromir patted her back to help ease the cough. When the cough ended, Arwen turned back to the fair-haired woman. "Forgive me, I was not prepared for the warmth of it … It is a most delicious soup, milady."

Éowyn smiled and then returned to her former conversation. Arwen's eyes swiftly flew to Aragorn who was trying his hardest to contain his laughter. From her right, she could hear Boromir's amused chuckle as well. The elf maiden sighed and shook her head even as a small smile crossed her lips.

Next to Aragorn, Pippin finished his soup and smacked his lips appreciatively as he did.

"That was some good carrot soup," he exclaimed to anyone who would listen.

Éomer, who sat on the hobbit's left, turned and looked at him sympathetically. He leaned closed and whispered, "That was not carrot."

* * *

The following night was followed by another evening of celebration. Théoden had sent ale and food to the citizens of Edoras and as they held their own feast in the town, there was also a big feast in Meduseld where all the soldiers had gathered with the Fellowship as Rohan's most honored guests.

Some soldiers sang ancient songs of old Rohan, while others merely slurred along to the beat of the music that played.

To the side of the main celebration, Arwen leaned against a pillar and joyfully watched the spectacle before her. Her gaze flew across the grande hall briefly in search of Aragorn.

As her eyes found him, the ranger was accepting a cup from the lady Éowyn. The lady wore a fair blue dress that suited her slim figure and there was no one who could deny that the shield maiden glowed tonight. Her pale eyes, indeed, shone with warmth and affection as she bowed to Aragorn. The ranger's back was turned to Arwen but she could still see his elegant bow as his attention remained fixed on the shield maiden.

Arwen felt a shadow pass through her heart as she turned from the scene. She took a deep breath to recollect herself and realized she was shaking. The cup she held in her hands suddenly fell from her grasp and broke as it hit the ground. Thankfully, though, it was mostly empty and not many noticed the interruption.

The elf maiden immediately kneeled by the shards to pick them up but the strong hands of lord Éomer stopped her.

As she begun to apologize he shook his head and smiled with warmth, "Do not fret, milady. I will take care of the shards. Return to the festivities and celebrate tonight. You deserve this night of peace after your adventures."

"As are you," she smiled back. "I heard the battle of Helm's Deep would not have been won if you and your men had not appeared."

Éomer bowed his head in gratitude of her kindness. "Alas, milady, your kind words are misguided. Truthfully, we would not have won had it not been for another person. I think you know who."

Arwen nodded as the last shards of the broken cup were cleaned away. "Lord Aragorn."

Lord Éomer helped the elf maiden up from the ground and gazed down at her. There was something in the man's deep eyes, something sad that burdened him, as he exhaled deeply.

"Forgive me for speaking freely, milady," Éomer said at last. "Yet I feel you will not think me rash for saying this. I know you watched my sister hand the cup to lord Aragorn. It is true, I cannot deny it... She is infatuated with him. My uncle encourages it for it has been a long time since any of us saw her this happy. But I cannot watch it any longer. It is far too plain for my eyes that lord Aragorn loves you and no other woman. Such love can never be parted. I merely wanted you to know, Undómiel, that you can always come to me if you find the situation has gotten out of hand. I promise to help in any way I can."

Arwen bowed her head in silence as Éomer walked away and disappeared into the crowd. A short while after, a hand touched her shoulder and she turned around. Aragorn smiled down at her and offered her a new cup. She gratefully accepted it and hoped he would not notice the slight tremor in her hand as she did. If he did notice, Arwen was not sure, for he did not comment upon it.

"Come, Arwen," Aragorn said and lead her towards a bench by one of the walls further away. "Let us sit for awhile."

They sat down side by side and watched as Merry and Pippin danced across the tables as they sang a cheerful tune from their beloved Shire. Most in the hall watched them with laughter and encouragement.

"This is a nice feast," Arwen said gently and her voice barely carried over the music.

There was silence a minute before Aragorn turned to her with worry in his eyes. "Arwen... Are you truly alright? I saw Éomer help you with the cup you dropped."

The elf contained her sigh and hid her worries behind a protective wall. She wasn't prepared for this conversation yet. She gently cupped his cheek and whispered, "I will be fine now that I am reunited with you."

The worry in his eyes vanished as he returned her adoring smile. Both looked up as they saw a white-clad figure move towards them in the crowd. With a gentle smile, Gandalf stopped before them and leaned on his staff as if old age wearied him.

"It is nice to see most of the fellowship reunited once more," the wizard spoke as his eye traveled briefly to the dancing hobbits.

"I had almost forgotten during all this excitement," Arwen breathed and leaned closer to the wizard. "When I was in Fangorn, my grandmother sent me a vision of our two friends. Frodo and Sam are travelling with the creature Gollum and have been captured by rangers of Ithilien. She wanted us to know where they were. I do not know any more, however..."

Gandalf nodded his head slowly and let this new knowledge sink in briefly. "At least they are alive. ...May I have a word with you, Undómiel?"

Arwen nodded and together the two of them walked away from the celebrations in the hall and out into the quiet of the night outside. The elf maiden silently watched as the white wizard walked over to one of the large pillars and heavily leaned against it.

"Mithrandir?" she asked as she joined his side.

"I feel I owe you an apology," the old wizard spoke at last and his voice seemed to linger on the cold air.

"What for?" Arwen frowned at his profile. "What could you have to be sorry for?"

"Many things, milady. Many things," Gandalf muttered. "But this far surpasses most of them. I fear that all that is happening to you now is my fault."

"What do you speak of, Mithrandir?" Arwen asked cautiously even though she knew the answer already. She didn't know the meaning of it though and when he finally turned to meet her gaze, the elf shakily continued, "... I think it is time I learned the truth, Gandalf."

"You already know, do you not, Arwen?" asked Gandalf.

"But I do not understand," she whispered back as if admitting it out loud made it unbearably true. "My father found a way to contact my mind when I was in Fangorn and he told me... I was in trouble. That a shadow festers in my mind. My father gave me the choice of staying here and possibly face death or go to the Grey Havens and leave Middle Earth forever."

Gandalf slowly nodded and Arwen felt her heart sink at the simple motion. The elf braved herself for the storm as she pushed on, "My father could not tell me _why_, Gandalf. Why is this happening to me?"

The wizard seemed to collect himself for a difficult explanation and finally sighed. It seemed he carried all the worries of the world then as he admitted, "It is happening because Sauron found a way to Aragorn's greatest weakness. He has found a way to strike at the heart of the one man who can save us all from bottomless abyss."

"_How_?"

Pain shone in Gandalf's eyes as they silently pleaded with her for forgiveness. "Do you remember when you saved Frodo from the Nazguls by offering your own grace to help the hobbit? By doing so, your own faith was entwined with that of Frodo's. It is also how Sauron found you, and figured out your role in all of this. When you were wounded by the arrow your mind was weakened enough for Sauron to advance on it and plant a dark seed within your soul."

Arwen's thoughts reeled with this information and she felt empty inside. "So… it is true. I have no other choices but to leave or die?"

Solemnly, Gandalf spoke, "I truly am sorry for all this, Arwen... I wish I had not forced you into this."

The elf frowned up at the white-bearded man in confusion as her thoughts cleared. "You have not forced me into anything, old friend. You have nothing to feel responsible for."

The wizard held her gaze as he further revealed, "When the Fellowship set out on our quest the bond between Sauron and Frodo grew stronger, because of the Ring, but also Sauron's hold on you. Arwen, it was I who suggested the idea that you join the Fellowship. Had it not been for my involvement, you would have stayed in Imladris where you would have been safe."

"Safer, perhaps. But not _safe_. The shadow of Sauron would grow and grow, and even then my choices would ultimately have been the same, though perhaps not as directly important for my own survival. No, everything I have done has been because of _my own_ decisions, Gandalf. None of them have been yours, you are not to blame for any of this."

Gandalf did not fully accept her words as he sighed. "When I was the Grey Wizard I did believe that your coming on this trip would only help Aragorn make up his mind and step up to do what he is destined. And he is walking that path now, at last. If he survives this coming war, Aragorn will be king. ... However, I fear the cost might be too high. I did not realize this until I returned as the White Wizard."

Arwen moved a few paces away from the wizard to ease the pressure of her mind. A strong wind blew past her and she accepted the bitter cold of it with gratitude before she felt she had calmed herself enough to face her old friend once more.

"What must I do now?" she asked and her voice was barely audible above the wind.

"As you said, you have come this far on your journey by making your own decisions," Gandalf explained. "Now you have another to make."

Arwen leaned back against a pillar as strength failed her. Her thoughts were once more drawn to her vision in the forest. "I had another vision in Fangorn that I have not told you of yet. The vision showed me Aragorn and the lady Éowyn as King and Queen of Gondor. They were… happy. Together. If I leave, they could share that future."

Gandalf shook his head slowly and crossed the short distance to the elf. "You must learn the difference of reality and false dreams. You do well to remember that you are influenced by forces neither one of us can control."

"Are you suggesting Sauron sent me that vision? Are you telling me it was not true?" Arwen asked and her silver eyes widened in hope.

"Knowing Aragorn as well as I believe I do... I would not think such a vision could ever be reality," Gandalf said with a pointed look. "Think of this, Arwen; when you thought it was real you had almost made up your mind to leave Middle Earth. Now when you know it is probably false, you must make a new judgement on the situation."

Arwen nodded wordlessly and once more descended into her dark thoughts. Gandalf turned to move back inside, but paused for a second. He looked up at her and and said, "If you want my advice... I would suggest you talk to _him_ about it. He deserves to know, if nothing else."

And then the wizard once more joined the feast and left Arwen alone outside with her troubled thoughts.


	21. The Palantír

**21. The Palantír**

Aragorn stood from the ground and looked around him at the sleeping forms in the room. The celebrations had ended a few hours earlier and all soldiers who had remained now shared the bedrooms of Meduseld in a peaceful rest. Aragorn had been unable to sleep and decided to get some fresh night air. With watchful steps he stepped out of the room, careful not to wake anyone.

Once outside the crowded room, he closed the door gently and looked around at the emptied main hall. The warming fire had long since diminished and all that remained now was a soft glow as the chillness of night slowly crept over him.

Aragorn glanced behind him and his mind wandered to the two maidens in their room down another corridor. In truth, he hadn't expected things to run as smoothly as they had between the two women. He'd expected Éowyn's jealousy to take more hostile forms, but was glad to see she had quite easily fallen into friendship with the elf maiden. Arwen seemed still to remain unaware of the fair woman's emotions, but even if she had been aware Aragorn doubted she would have felt anything akin to jealousy.

His thoughts reached out to the elf maiden as he remembered how the evening had progressed after she and Gandalf had returned after their talk. Arwen had gently refused to answer anything about what the wizard had told her, but it was plain to Aragorn that she was distraught by whatever it was. He knew her well enough to see the plain storm in her silvery eyes that wreaked havoc inside.

He was also aware, however, that she had been more than patient in the past whenever he had withdrawn into his own mind as the topic of his ancestry had come up. The least he could offer her in return was the same patience. When she was ready, he knew she would come to him with her worries, whatever they were.

Aragorn pulled himself from his pondering and walked over to the gates of the hall and opened them with a powerful nudge.

The cold night hit him hard as he closed the gates behind him. He took another step forward and turned to the east. He was taken by surprise when he saw the other figure also awake at this late hour. Cautiously, he walked over the person who stood leaned against one of the pillars and looked east in silence.

"Could you not sleep either?" Aragorn asked in a soft voice.

Arwen jumped at his voice for she had not heard his approach. She turned to watch him and a somber look flashed through her eyes.

"Is something the matter?" the ranger pushed on when Arwen remained silent.

"It is just…" Arwen began, but seemed unable to find the right words. With a deep sigh she turned away from him and watched the night sky again. Aragorn followed her gaze and far away on the horizon saw the dark shadows and bright fires of Mordor. Wherever the shadows touched the heavens above they seemed like poison, for a thick, dark cloud hovered above so that neither sun nor moon could peek through.

As he glanced back down at the pensive Arwen, Aragorn realized his assessment that he would be patient might have been the wrong course of action. Instead, he leaned against the pillar behind the maiden, put an arm around her waist and gently tugged her closer towards him. Her back came to rest against his chest and her long hair flowed between them, preventing their clothes from meeting in the middle. Gently, Aragorn stroked some of her hair away from her face and leaned his cheek against hers. She sighed in contentment and Aragorn felt her body relax against his.

"Arwen, I know something is troubling you," he whispered. "You know I will always be here for you."

"It is nothing, love," Arwen assured but Aragorn could feel her tense against him once more. "There are simply too many thoughts running through my mind."

"Tell me, what thoughts torment you?"

"I would not call it fear, but perhaps it is not very different," she finally admitted. "It is no easy thing to explain. I am not sure I could even if I tried."

"You can tell me anything," he repeated.

"Perhaps not this," she whispered in reply and her voice was tinged with a sincerity Aragorn had not expected.

"Arwen…?" he asked and turned her around in his arms when suddenly a terrified shout came from within Meduseld.

Aragorn turned to listen when Arwen's hand suddenly closed tight around his arm. The ranger turned back towards her once more as the elf maiden breathed in a terrified voice, "He's here!"

Her wide eyes told him all he needed to know. He felt the presence of Sauron, too. Both rushed back inside the main hall. The anguished scream had come from the chamber Aragorn shared with the others and the two rushed back inside.

Aragorn was the first to enter the room and immediately saw Pippin lying sprawled on the ground between the beds with the Palantír burning bright in his grasp. The others in the room seemed to be slowly awakening as Pippin's pained cries resumed, but none seemed awake enough to grasp exactly what was happening.

"_Someone do something_!" Merry begged and his own fear echoed in the air.

Without hesitating, Aragorn strode over to Pippin and pulled the dark orb from the hobbits hands in a fluid motion. Pippin fell silent and completely still on the ground. The warm orb, meanwhile, burned the ranger's hands as the eye of Sauron appeared before his very eyes to torment and speak to him through the Palantír.

Arwen rushed over to Gandalf's bed and shook him awake. The wizard sat up and watched the scene as Arwen pleaded, "Please, help him!

Gandalf turned to her and his eyes were heavy with thoughts. Without warning, he lifted a hand to the wound on Arwen's back which had not fully healed yet. At his probing touch, Arwen gasped in pain. This seemed enough to pull Aragorn's attention from the Palantír. The orb fell from his hands as he turned to watch his elf maiden and Gandalf took the opportunity presented. He immediately threw his covers atop the orb to stop its escape. The room fell silent as the worst had passed.

Aragorn swayed slightly and when he fell Arwen jumped forward to stop his descent. She held him close to her in her arms as one of her hands gently caressed his dark hair.

He gently patted her arm and muttered, "I'm fine, Arwen. What about you?"

She touched his cheek and smiled, "Better now."

Both were pulled from the moment as Merry's voice broke through the silence, "Pippin? _Pip_? You have to wake up, Pip!"

Merry's voice was so scared and shattered that no one in the room dared move. Gandalf hurried over to where Merry sat beside Pippin and pushed the older hobbit out of the way. The wizard kneeled down by the unconscious hobbit to try and fix the damage the Palantír had caused him.

* * *

"Pippin has seen many things unknown to us," Gandalf began. "And he may be a fool, but he is an honest fool. Peregrin did not share any of our secrets with Sauron. Though it was unfortunate, we now have much knowledge we can use against the dark lord. We now know Sauron wishes to eliminate his closest resistance; Minas Tirith."

The wizard stopped and looked around at the other people in the hall of Meduseld who had gathered for an urgent meeting not long after sunrise. Arwen sat by Merry and Pippin and the latter still seemed a bit shaken with these last events. By another table Gimli, Legolas, Boromir and Éomer sat and their attention was intently on the wizard who spoke. Théoden stood opposite Gandalf and Aragorn stood alone over on the side.

Gandalf continued, "We must now decide what to do with this information. What you, Théoden king, decide to do is not my decision, but Minas Tirith could need your assistance when the time comes to fight. The first course of action we must take is in moving Pippin away from Rohan for he is no longer safe here. I have felt the presence of one of the Nazguls close by these lands and it is important we leave before it comes here."

"Where will you take him?" Éomer asked.

"I will take Peregrin to Minas Tirith," Gandalf said shortly.

"Then I shall go with you," Boromir spoke up and the wizard turned to the Gondorian. "The city is ruled by my father, the Steward. I fear he will not be as accepting of your arrival unless I come with you."

"Yes…" Gandalf nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, you may be correct, Boromir. But do not put your blind faith in thinking your coming will help us."

Legolas interrupted before the Gondorian could question the wizard's words. The blond elf stood from his seat and glanced from the ranger to the wizard, "What is Sauron planning? What does he wish to accomplish by destroying the White City?"

"He wishes to make sure that the free people of Middle Earth does not unite as one strong force against him," the wizard explained. "Our victory at Helm's Deep has made it clear to him that one thing has happened that he was not counting on. He knows that Aragorn, heir of Elendil, has stopped hiding in shadows and stepped forth into the light. Sauron has realized that humans are no longer to be considered as weak. He knows we have power enough to challenge him. Only time can tell if we will also be victorious in the upcoming war. But one things is certain; if the people of Middle Earth do not unite, they cannot rise."

"You wish for my people to ride to their aid?" Théoden asked then and his voice sounded almost scornful. "Tell me, why should _I_ help those who raised no helping hand when my people needed it?"

"You cannot leave them to their deaths!" Aragorn protested as he turned to face the fair-haired king. "If you will not lead them, then I will. I, too, will go to Minas Tirith with Gandalf and help in any way I can."

"No, Aragorn," Gandalf said slowly. "You are not to come with me at this time. You are not ready to go to Minas Tirith yet."

Aragorn sighed and stepped back with an impassive glare. Pippin misread the look in the ranger's eyes as fear of his destiny and in hope of changing the dark tone, as well as to forget the shadows that still whispered in his mind, the hobbit gently said, "Do not fear, Strider. Sauron's fears are warranted for you will one day be king. And let's be honest, if you do not take the throne, the world of Men could end up with someone far worse to lead them."

The conversation faltered and the dark mood that hovered in the hall was broken for a second as Merry began to chuckle and the others smiled at Pippin. The ranger, too, turned his amused glare in the hobbit's direction.

"Thank you for the confidence, Peregrin," he said sarcastically and winked over at the hobbit.

Pippin immediately back-tracked. "I didn't mean it like _that_! I-I...-"

Merry leaned close to his friend. "Perhaps you ought to be silent for now and let them finish their discussion."

"If it's possible," Gandalf added with an amused twinkle in his own pale eyes. He then stepped closer to the ranger and whispered, "You have another task before you go to Minas Tirith. You must come to Gondor by the rivers, look for the black ships."

Aragorn frowned in confusion but got no more explanation from Gandalf who instead turned to address them all.  
"Let us return to the seriousness of our precarious situation. We must make great haste now, we have no time to lose. Every second is vital from here on out and every move can change things that can never be undone."

"Then we shall prepare for your departure swiftly," Arwen said and pulled Pippin from his seat but haltered when the wizard held up a hand to stop them.

"No…" Gandalf said in a distant oice. Everyone turned to him as the wizard swiftly moved over to a window and looked out at the grey sky. "I fear we have lost too much time already. The Nazgul is closer than I expected, it is almost upon us."

"Then we must leave immediately!" Boromir urged and jumped from his own seat.

"The Nazgul will catch the three of us if we do, Boromir," Gandalf said. "No, this we cannot escape."

"So we come up with an evasive maneuver," Aragorn suggested. "One that will throw the beast off its course."

"Yes," Gandalf said and nodded slowly. "You are right, Aragorn. The Nazgul is here for Pippin, it believes him to be Frodo with the Ring. If we are to deceive it, we must use someone who can uphold that illusion."

"You mean; _me_?" Merry asked.

Pippin immediately spun around to watch his friend as fear paled his face. With a begging voice, he said, "Don't do it, Merry."

"You need to get to safety, Pip," Merry said with a sad shrug. "If this is the way it must be done, I will do what I can."

"Very well. Then all we need now is a swift rider for your escort," Gandalf said and his eyes sought out Arwen's.

She nodded. "If it is a swift rider you need, then I shall be of service."

"No," Aragorn shook his head. "I will go."

Arwen turned to face him and said in a determined voice, "You know I am a swifter rider than you."

The ranger was painfully reminded of a similar discussion they'd had a few months prior when Frodo had been injured. Arwen had won that argument but Aragorn would not let her win a second time. He refused to stand idly by, helpless, while she sacrificed herself for anyone.

"Enough! I can need both of you to help," Gandalf interrupted. "With Boromir coming with me it would look suspicious if Arwen and Merry did not have a third companion as well."

"Then it is settled. Let us move out at once," Boromir said and with that left the room in a haste.

* * *

Aragorn heaved himself onto Brego and looked at the other three horses on his left.

In front of Gandalf sat Pippin atop of Shadowfax. The hobbit looking more scared than ever before and his face was pale as he glanced between his friends. It seemed Pippin could not accept his friends sacrificing themselves for him and for each second the look in his eyes darkened. In front of them were Merry and Arwen atop of Eirien and Boromir was in the very front atop his own horse.

Boromir and Aragorn exchanged a weary look and the Gondorian nodded his head in a silent promise. They would make this. It would work in everyone's favor

"Are we ready?" Gandalf asked and the others nodded. Shadowfax steered his long, fast steps towards the gate. Together the four riders rode out onto the field and the gates closed behind them. On a single line, they rode forward as each of them glanced around for the Nazgul.

"I don't see it!" Boromir shouted to the wizard up ahead.

"That does not mean it is not here!" Gandalf responded,

Just then they heard a terrifying screech from above. They turned their gazes upwards and saw a hideous, winged beast with the Nazgul atop fly towards them. The beast swooped down in front of them and all four riders stopped. Eirien started jumping nervously but Arwen soothed the horse with calm elvish words.

The beast snarled at them and the Nazgul's black hood was turned towards them as if it watched them with eyes unseen.

"Give me the Ring," the Nazgul snarled and it's voice was eerily cold.

"The Ring will not go to your master," Gandalf proclaimed and put his cloak protectively around Pippin. On his right side, Arwen put an arm around Merry as well. The Nazgul looked between both hobbits as if to determine which one could be the Ring bearer.

"Give it to me or I shall slay you all," the Nazgul said.

"No," the white wizard said shortly.

The Nazgul screeched then and turned its head to first watch Boromir, who quickly placed his hand on his sword hilt and then it turned its head to look at Arwen.

"_She-elf_," it hissed as it remembered the elf woman from the Ford.

Arwen's arm tightened around Merry and her eyes displayed a fear she did not feel, it was all in hope that the Nazgul would think Merry was the one it was after. The Nazgul looked down at Merry and then finally it turned to Aragorn.

"The man from Weathertop. Is this the ranger from the north? Is this the man said to be the heir of Isildur?" it hissed.

Aragorn forcefully pulled his sword from its sheath and with a powerful voice replied, "Indeed, it is I. I suggest you leave before I slay you with my blade."

Without further delay Gandalf cried, "Ride!"

He turned Shadowfax southeast and with Boromir close on his trail they galloped off while Arwen and Aragorn turned their horses north and set off as well. With only a few moments hesitation, the Nazgul flew north to pursue its prey. Arwen and Aragorn exchanged a worried look.

"It worked," the elf maiden whispered to Merry.

"Great," he muttered in sarcasm as he glanced back at the white horse disappearing with his best friend in the opposite direction. Silently he preyed that Pippin would be alright and that they would see each other again, like Pippin had promised him. For some reason, Merry had a hard time convincing himself of it.

"_Noro lim_," Arwen urged and felt Eirien's steps widen and she soon caught up with Brego ahead. The Nazgul's screech reached their ears and cut into their very core.

"Do you think we will make it?" Arwen shouted loud enough for Aragorn to hear her over the wind.

"I can only hope so!" he called and glanced behind him once. The beast was close on their tails up in the sky.

For a long while they maintained their speed only a short distance ahead of the Nazgul. Their horses had sensed the danger and had not once slowed down since the start. As a matter of fact, the further they galloped the more speed the trio seemed to gain. Almost half a day later of tiresome galloping, Arwen, Aragorn and Merry could see the outskirts of Fangorn far off in the distance.

"Let us distract the Nazgul by splitting up!" Aragorn shouted. "If I turn east I can enter the woods from northeast while you ride on our course and head straight for the forest."

Arwen nodded and shouted back, "Be careful!"

The ranger winked at her. He rode by her side a while longer before he turned Brego around. Arwen watched him as he rode east but all the sudden stopped. She saw him pull his sword and wait for the oncoming Nazgul.

"_Estel_!" Arwen shrieked and her heart sped up as she saw the Nazgul turn towards him but knew she could not turn back. She needed to get Merry to safety first.

The hobbit, on the other hand, tugged on her sleeves and shouted for her to stop the horse. "We have to save him!"

Both of them watched as the Nazgul reached the ranger and circled above him in the air as the winged beast growled menacingly. After a long moment, the Nazgul turned from the man and once more hurried after the elf and the hobbit.

"_Faster! Faster_!" Merry urged as Arwen urged Eirien to ride swifter.

Eirien tried to increase her speed but seemed unable to. The adrenaline of the chase had begun to falter and it was clear the mare had not much strength left. Hearing a surprised shout from Merry's mouth, Arwen turned back around and saw that the Nazgul was gaining on them. Behind it, she couldn't see Aragorn anywhere and figured it was for the best as long as it meant his safety.

"_Noro lim_!" Arwen cried even though she knew it was futile. Deciding that speed wouldn't get them to Fangorn first she started riding in zig-zag to prevent the Nazgul from capturing them.

"_Arwen_!" Merry called as the beast suddenly dove towards them.

She turned and realized this was an attack they would not be able to evade. Without hesitation, Arwen took a hold of Merry, let go of the reins and let them both fall to the side. They both hit the ground hard. At least they remained alive, which was more than what could be said of Eirien. The horse was lifted by the gigantic claws of the beast and thrown aside. Blood smeared the ground where the animal landed.

Arwen and Merry jumped from the ground and sprinted towards the forest. They were less than a hundred meters away now, they could make it with some luck. The screech of death was once more heard behind them and the elf maiden felt the strong wind created by the beast's wings. She immediately grabbed hold of the hobbit and pulled them both down to the ground. The Nazgul soared right above them and the beast's claws narrowly missed both elf and hobbit.

Their relief was short-lived, however, for Arwen and Merry soon realized that their close call had given the Nazgul the upper hand. It now stood between them and their safety in the woods. Beneath her, Merry trembled with fear and gripped the elf's hand tightly in his own.

Just as the Nazgul moved to descends its beast, a furious growl echoed on the plains. Arwen and Merry both looked up as Aragorn rode along the edge of the forest with an Ent close behind him. It was Treebeard.

Together, Man and Ent managed to get the upper hand of the Nazgul. The creature knew it was momentarily beaten and flew high into the skies. Arwen and Merry hurried over to Fangorn and stopped behind Aragorn and his horse. The Nazgul hesitated in the skies above, before it, with a mighty shriek, headed southeast in pursuit of the others.

Once it was gone, Merry breathed out a sigh of relief and threw himself down on the ground in exhaustion "Thank you," he breathed. "Good to see you again, Treebeard. It's real good to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual, master Brandybuck, Bu-ruhm," Treebeard said slowly with a smile.

"How come you are here, Treebeard?" Arwen asked.

"I was just walking by the borders looking out for intruders that might have escaped from Isengard, when I saw lord Aragorn on horse. He told me of the Nazgul and together we hurried to your aid. Creatures like that are not to be taken lightly. But now that the threat is done with, I must return to my realm."

With a humble bow, Treebeard entered Fangorn once more and had soon vanished out of sight between the trees.

Aragorn smiled down at Arwen before he jumped down from his horse. "Well, that was an adventure."

The elf smiled back at her ranger and without a word threw her arms around his neck. Surprised by the desperation of her action, Aragorn slowly moved an arm around her back and held on tight.

"Thank you," Arwen whispered and Aragorn could not help but feel that there was more meaning behind her words. "Thank you for saving me."

"Always," he whispered back and felt her arms squeeze tighter around his shoulders. Slowly he pulled back and looked into the elf's eyes.

"I have a feeling we need to talk," Aragorn said slowly.

Arwen grimaced, "Not here. Let us get back to Edoras."

The ranger nodded and helped Arwen climb atop of Brego before he lifted Merry up in front of her. He then proceeded to lead Brego back towards Edoras and each one of them got lost in thoughts of different things.


	22. Heartache

**A/N 2013: New scenes added. One with Faramir/Boromir/Denethor and one with Éomer/Aragorn. Hope you like.**

* * *

**22. Heartache**

Miles and miles away, Gandalf, Boromir and Pippin had reached Minas Tirith after a long and tiresome journey only a few hours before. It had been a trying day for all three of them when they had been forced to meet Denethor, who, though rejoicing in his son's return, was reluctant to accept anything that did not sit well with him.

Gandalf and Pippin had left the throne room in a huff as Boromir had remained behind to talk over matters with his father. Still, there seemed little that could touch his father's well-guarded heart.

"Father, please! Listen to what Gandalf has said... " Boromir attempted again but Denethor held up a hand to stop him.

"I have heard enough of the wizard," Denethor's voice was heavy with tiredness of the particular subject.

The doors behind them suddenly opened and another voice rang clear, "Boromir!"

In great relief, Boromir turned and saw his brother in the doorway. "Faramir..." he breathed as the man in question rushed over to his elder brother and enveloped him in a bear hug.

As the two men parted, Boromir's eyes searched his brother's form for any sign of injury and was relieved when he found none.

"Oh, good... My family all together again..." Denethor muttered and it was clear there was no joy in his voice. "Faramir..."

The younger brother clenched his jaw and bowed his head. "Father." he then turned back to his brother with a wide grin. "We were told you had passed. Your horn drifted ashore and we all were certain of it. I am most glad to learn this was not the case!"

"You have not heard the best part," Denethor said. "Boromir, my eldest and bravest, brought a wizard and... a hobbit to our city. But did he remember to bring The Ring, as I asked him? Did you not fail in the quest I appointed to _you_? It was _important_, Boromir! That was the reason I could not entrust Faramir with it!"

Boromir heard his brother's weary sigh and stepped forward to speak, "Father… You must listen to me. The Ring cannot come to Gondor."

"Why?" Denethor spat out madly.

Faramir raised his voice as he remembered the talk he himself had shared with Frodo and Sam not too long ago. "Because it must be _destroyed_."

"Stay out of this, Faramir! These are matters beyond you!" the grey-haired man scowled and held his head in his hands as if his sons brought him much pain.

Faramir's face fell and Boromir placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Denethor shook his head slowly as he rose from the steward's seat and walked down the steps to face his sons. "We could have used the Ring to fight this war. With the Ring of Power we could have won!"

Boromir held back his emotions as he tried to reason with the elder man. "You are not listening to us, father-"

"You have deceived me, son…," Denethor interrupted. "And to think, I put all my hope in you. You were the son I loved… and now you have fallen in my eyes. Much like Faramir, here. Who, too, let go out of the Ring when he had the chance to bring it here. I knew he was weak, Boromir, I just never thought both my sons were _cowards_."

The brothers were just to argue back when they suddenly heard shouts and gasps outside. Faramir ran over to the door and looked outside. What he saw on the horizon gave him hope.

"What is it?" Denethor asked. "What is all the commotion about?"

"The beacons," Faramir breathed and exchanged a hopeful look with his brother. "The beacons are lit."

* * *

Several days of peace had passed in Edoras, but slowly a cloak of doubt and impatience descended upon the villagers as they waited for signs of the upcoming war they all knew would come. Aragorn was the most affected by this wait for he wished to have joined Gandalf instead of being left behind. He feared he would have done more help elsewhere instead of staying behind. He felt as if he was letting the people of Gondor down by staying away even longer.

The wizard's words of a river also still had him confused and the ranger wanted answers to his questions, answers no one in Edoras could give him.

Then, of course, there was Arwen, who had seemed to withdraw further into her mind even after they had returned from being chased by the Nazgul. The far-off look in her eyes told Aragorn that she was deeply brooding something which he could not grasp. Their promise of a talk hung in the air but the ranger still felt that his elven lady was not ready to tell her well-kept secret. It pained Aragorn to see her so distant when she thought no one saw, but in public she managed to mask her concerns well.

Twice, since their return, he had caught her wistfully looking north while an uncertain frown crossed her flawless features. Aragorn knew she missed her father and family, just as he did, and could not but help wonder if perhaps that was the simple explanation. She was longing to go home.

So, on their third day back, he decided to disregard his worries. He cornered her alone in the main hall and asked, "I see in your eyes a distant look watching lands far away. Is it so that you wish to journey back home? Is that why you have kept silent and remote all this time?"

Arwen looked at him in silence for a few seconds before she let her gaze travel across the wide chamber to make sure that they were alone except for a few soldiers who sat in the other end of the room talking among themselves. They would surely not overhear.

"Is my distress truly that obvious?" she asked with a sigh as she turned back to the ranger before her.

"Arwen, there is something bothering you. Something which you have until now kept silent, but I cannot let you distance yourself further from me. Please, tell me what is happening to you."

The elf felt her own feelings of uncertainty creep back into her every fiber. She wanted to tell him but feared his reaction more than she had ever feared anything. Nevertheless, she knew he was right. He had waited long enough and she would tell him now.

"Perhaps we should be sitting down for this," she suggested and directed him over to a bench. Without a word they both sat down and Arwen took another deep breath to calm her nerves.

"When the hobbits and I were in Fangorn I saw you before my eyes as if you were truly with me. You were injured by a river and I helped you in spirit," she began. The knowing look in his eyes told her that he knew what she was referring to. "But when my mind was brought back to Fangorn, I felt so weary. I fell unconscious, Aragorn, something which I have never done before in my long years on Middle Earth. I knew not why, but my father used his elven powers to communicate with me. He and Gandalf have both informed me since that… something is happening with my body that I have no control over."

Arwen glanced at the ranger beside her and saw his penetrating, worried gaze directed at her. With a short nod he urged her to continue.

"It is Sauron, Estel," she breathed. "He has entered my mind and hopes to use this against you. He is that afraid of you. He wants to use your greatest weakness against you_."_

"_You_," Aragorn stated grimly.

The elf maiden nodded. "He has placed a shadow in my mind that grows within me and I am greatly weakened by it. Though whenever I am with you, I feel better. It has been days now since I've felt weary to the brink of exhaustion, and I owe that solely to you. I know that my elven life ought to be enough to save me from his powers, but my decision to remain behind has weakened even that part of me. My elven life is fading, Aragorn."

The man turned his head forward and Arwen saw how he clenched his jaw. She waited but when he still said nothing, she frowned. She had expected him to react in some way, she had not expected such a silent treatment on the subject.

After a while she cautiously continued, "Ada gave me a choice, Aragorn. Either to remain here and trust in hope and our chance of winning over Sauron's forces before my life has ended and thus perhaps I will not die. Or I go to the Undying Lands, leaving all those I love behind."

Here Arwen silenced and in her mind flashed the memories of the dreaded vision she'd had of Éowyn and Aragorn. After having spoken to Gandalf, she was reassured that her beloved would not move on even if she went to the Undying Lands. The vision was a poison, not a truth. Therefore she felt she need not leave and had given up fear. Now she wished to fight this with every bit of strength that still remained in her weakening body.

"My love, you must know that no matter what happens next I will not give up fighting. As I have told you once, the light of the Evenstar does not simply wax and wane."

"You should leave," Aragorn said shortly in an emotional and low voice.

The maiden's head whipped in his direction and her eyes widened in surprise. She had thought, or hoped rather, that his response would have been the opposite of this. Then again, she knew his fears, perhaps she had hoped in vain that he, too, held some faith of their future.

Aragorn still did not turn back to her as he continued, "Arwen, my love for you grows stronger everyday, but you cannot linger here if I am the one responsible for your pain. Remember what I told you in Lothlórien. I am frightened by the mere thought of you facing these dangers with me, even more if I am the cause of them. If what you are telling me now is true and you are... _dying_, you must know that I hold no greater fear than this. I repeat, therefor, the words I said in your ancestors' home; The only way you will be guaranteed safety and happiness is in the Undying Lands."

Arwen shook her head as her mind registered his solemn words. She closed her eyes as she bravely said, "If I learned something from dear Samwise, it is this; I will not surrender and quit before the battle has even been fought. Nor will I abandon those who need me in the darkest hour-"

She covered his hand with hers then and was about to continue, when suddenly she felt him squeeze it tighter as he swallowed. "Your hand, it is cold," he said, barely over a whisper.

"Aragorn... if I leave we are both guaranteed heartbreak. It is only if I stay we have a chance at happiness together," Arwen said and her voice pleaded with him to understand but Aragorn shook his head.

"It is not worth the risk... I cannot let you do this, Arwen," he whispered and his blue eyes finally searched for hers. "Sauron wants you dead because of me, if you leave he can no longer touch you."

"You cannot mean this…" her voice trailed off.

"If the choice stands between life or death, then I do mean this," he promised. "If I can guarantee your safety no other way, than that is how it must be."

"But, Aragorn…" Arwen breathed but stopped unsure how to continue. "Think of the consequences. What happens if I leave and we win this war? What happens if all ends well? There will be no going back for me then. If I leave neither of us can change our minds from the irreversible."

Aragorn was silent a minute as he pondered her words. At length, he sighed and shook his head. "I still think the risk is too great. Your life is at stake here... At least if you leave, I can be content with the knowledge that you are alive and well with your kin."

"And then what?" she asked hesitantly after a few seconds of tense silence.

"Then life goes on," Aragorn said firmly, though he felt it was more for her sake than his. He was positive that if she left him he would never find love again. But if he had to convince her, he would say whatever she needed to hear. If she wanted him to say that he would move on in order to have peace of mind, then he would say it, no matter how untrue the words would be. "If we win and we are parted, life will still go on for the both of us."

The elf maiden frowned and could barely conceal her sorrow. "...Aragorn, what you ask of me is to leave and never see you again."

"Remember that I asked it of you already before we left Imladris," the ranger said tenderly.

"I do remember..." Arwen replied grimly. "And I hear your words now, and believe me... I have listened to them. But I also know we have worked so hard and so long for our future, for the day of our marriage... I cannot believe your doubt is greater than your love. What if you change your mind when I am gone?"

Aragorn shook his head and stood up from the bench and Arwen rose beside him.

"You think this is an easy decision to make?" he questioned as irritation flashed in his pale eyes. "I would do _anything_ to see you safe and alive with me, Arwen. But if I have to choose between you being safe or you being with me, then I will _gladly_ sacrifice my own happiness."

"What about _me_?" Arwen asked but managed to keep her distraught voice low. "What if I do not wish to leave?"

"Obviously you do not or you would not argue with me!" the ranger pointed out.

Arwen frowned and opened her mouth to continue when suddenly the heavy, wooden doors opened and Éowyn stepped through with a smile upon her thin lips.

"Lord Aragorn, Théoden sends for you. He is outside," she smiled as she hurried over to the couple. "The beacons of Minas Tirith have been lit and Théoden has decided to ride out to aid them. This will surely help your people!"

"Indeed, milady, this is great news," Aragorn bowed his head at the fair woman and then briefly in Arwen's direction before he excused himself and brushed past the shield maiden. Both women watched on as he briskly walked out the doors and out of sight.

"I hope I did not disturb," Éowyn said cautiously as she turned back to the elf. There was no denying the tension that lingered in the air.

"You did not," Arwen said, her voice sounded almost fragile like glass. "I fear that we were having a _small _disagreement on certain matters."

"May I inquire as to what the disagreement was about, my lady?" Éowyn hesitantly asked. True, she had expected not to care for Arwen, but had found an easy friendship had developed with her that strengthened the shield maiden in these troublesome times.

Éowyn was therefore surprised by the intensity in the elf's silvery eyes as they turned and looked upon her.

"I know it was not real," Arwen began distantly as the image of the smiling Éowyn and Aragorn from her vision flashed before her eyes. "But it does not mean it cannot become so."

"I am sorry, Arwen," Éowyn said with a frown. "I'm afraid I do not understand."

"Éowyn... Forgive me for being frank and do not suppose me cruel for what I am to say to you," Arwen waited until the other woman gave a curt nod before she continued, "You have great affection for him, do you not?"

The fair maiden's eyes widened as she watched the elf before her but she chose not to deny it. In a whisper, she said, "Are my feelings so obvious?"

"Only to those who know to look for it," Arwen responded and sighed. "I cannot say I blame you nor do I hold a grudge in any way. He is a wonderful man and will someday be a wonderful husband. Milady, I wish I could tell you more of my heart's sorrow but I cannot. What I can tell you is that whatever happens after this, his decision is what will affect us all. And if that decision should not include me, I will rethink my own situation. I would do anything to see that man happy and at peace..."

"I am still not sure what you are referring to, milady," Éowyn said though in her heart there was a song of hope as she tried to interpret Arwen's words. The shield maiden of Rohan wondered if this perhaps meant that Aragorn had, at least to some extent, confessed to having feelings for _her_.

"If I will not be around in the future I want to know that he will be loved by someone who deserves him. And I know that you care for him, though I do not still know to what extent," Arwen whispered and her eyes gleamed with tears.

The shield maiden did not comment but a small smile lingered on her lips. But she could still not help but feel guilty for feeling joy at the elf maiden's sadness, or at least in part of what she might be insinuating.

"Milady," Éowyn said at last and reached out for the the elf's hand and pressed it in a friendly gesture. "I am sure all will work out fine in the end."

* * *

Dying. Arwen was _dying_, and there was _nothing _he could do to stop it. He felt his anger at Sauron increase tenfold by each second that passed. Sauron was using his beloved for such a cruel and malicious purpose that it sickened the ranger to no end. What hurt most was that Aragorn knew that even though he would fight Sauron with all forces he could muster, the life of the dark lord was not his to end.

That hope rested instead in the hands of Frodo and Sam. Arwen's survival could only be decided by the actions of Frodo and Sam. If they did not succeed in destroying the One Ring then all would be in vain, and Arwen would, most likely, be the first one to die. Then, of course there was the possibility that she could die before the Ring was even destroyed. What then?

Aragorn was drawn from his thoughts as Théoden's strong voice carried out orders to some of his soldiers by his side. They were all gathered and ready to set off for Dunharrow and the king was making sure everything was going as planned. Aragorn saw Merry walk over to have a private conversation with the king before the ranger turned back to his horse and made the final preparations.

Éowyn stepped up to her horse next to his and smiled sweetly up at the man. Aragorn smiled back as he took the reins of Brego, but soon let his eyes search for Arwen. He climbed atop his horse and finally saw the elf maiden standing further away with Éomer. The king's nephew handed her the reins of a new horse to her, seeing as Eirien was dead, and then bowed his head as he left her side. Aragorn steered Brego closer and stopped his horse next to hers.

"Arwen-," Aragorn began.

The woman interrupted as she climbed into her saddle gracefully, "I advice you to give the information time to sink in. We both have a lot to think about and I will, even if no further, at least follow you to Dunharrow."

Though her voice was curt, Aragorn noticed the lack of emotion. He knew that now was not the time to speak about anything and when she met his gaze with a strong look, he merely nodded his agreement. The elf exhaled once and then rode away from him and Aragorn saw her catch up to Legolas and Gimli up ahead.

Aragorn remained in place for a second when suddenly Éomer rode up this his side. The two men sat silently side by side in their saddles a seconds, before the fair man spoke.

"I have met many men who have not understood their blessed lives when they have found the love of a special woman... I have seen women lose their fire as they have been taken for granted by their husbands. Slowly, the couples have grown apart and what was once special has become tame and tarnished. To still have that love and fire even after such a long time, as you and Arwen has, is a blessing indeed. I know not the joys myself of true love."

"_Yet,_" Aragorn pointed out even as he was unsure where the man was going with his speech.

Éomer smiled warmly and continued, "Still, I have seen enough relationships ruined to know what I must look out for. I have told myself often that when I find her, that woman who is special to me... I will never take her for granted but I will cherish every moment I have with her. I might consider giving up the life of a soldier if only to guarantee her a safe life together. And, through good times _and bad_, I will stand by her side. For if I was ever lucky enough to have her... I would hold on tight until the cold hands of death claimed her from my side. I would rather have faced it all, with my loved ones by my side, then to have done it all alone. If she wants to love and lose instead of giving up voluntarily... If it's true and honest emotions they should be worth holding onto, despite the risks... don't you agree?"

Aragorn figured that even if Éomer did not know the whole truth, he was perceptive enough to see the core of it. His words had touched the ranger and he turned to his friend and bowed his head to make it clear he had understood.

"... And here I thought you had an inexperienced mind," the ranger spoke. "You know more than most men, Éomer, and I am certain you will one day make a woman very happy."

Éomer bowed his head in gratitude. "Just as I am sure, Aragorn, that you already are making a woman most happy."

Without further ado the large company of horsemen set out for what could possibly prove to be their last ride.

* * *

_To be continued._


	23. Path of the Dead

**23. Path of the Dead**

When they reached Dunharrow, the refuge of the Rohirrim in the White Mountains, Théoden quickly learned the number of warriors whom had come to fight for them; 6000 men. The king had not been the only one worried about this relatively small amount of competent men, Aragorn too realized that their strength would be greatly outnumbered by the forces of Sauron.

Concerned for this, the ranger had retired to his tent early that eve and had there remained until long past nightfall.

When the camp lay silent and most of the warriors had gone to rest, a loud horn suddenly broke through the stillness of the mountains. Most soldiers stepped out of their tents to watch the approaching riders to curiously learn who had broken their peaceful slumber. Aragorn exited his own tent as well and stood to join Théoden and Éomer who had stepped forth to meet the foreign company. The three men silently watched as the group rode up the winding path to the cliff-top.

"Are we expecting more soldiers?" Aragorn asked with a frown.

Théoden merely shook his head as he turned to the ranger. "I was under the impression that all who could be spared had already come. Or, at least, would not reach us 'til morning. This is beyond me."

The ranger squinted his eyes as the rider in the front finally reached the mount. A smile spread across his face for even in the dark he recognized the rider.

"I cannot believe the fortune we have," Aragorn said and smiled. Théoden and Éomer both turned their heads to him with matching looks of confusion.

"Do you know these men?" Éomer asked and turned his eyes back to the thirty or so riders that were almost upon them.

"They are the Rangers of the North, my people," the ranger breathed and stepped forward as the first rider hopped down from his horse. The two rangers embraced in a bear hug.

"Halbarad, it is so good to see you again, old friend," Aragorn greeted and stepped back to have a proper look at the man.

The leader of the rangers grinned back and nodded his head in agreement. He held out his hand to indicate the group of men as he spoke, "Aye, my lord. Lady Galadriel sent us a message and we hasted to come to your aid. Though, I am sad to report that these are all the men that could come."

Aragorn brotherly squeezed the man's shoulder as he felt hope surge within his hope again. "The mere presence of you has lifted my spirits, Halbarad. Even though the numbers are few you are all able warriors. You will be of much aid, old friend, in that I trust."

"Ah yes! The skill of the blade is something we are all well-versed in. Do you not agree, Estel?" A second rider spoke as he rode up, closely followed by a third. Aragorn gazed up at both in mute surprise as the two dark-haired elves grinned back down at him.

"Elrohir, Elladan, my brothers! You have come to aid as well?" Aragorn asked and a grin spread swiftly across his face as both elves jumped from their steeds to stand before him. Their faces were fair, though more grim and respectful like their father's than soft and gentle like their sister's.

"You did not think we would abandon you at this time of need, brother?" Elrohir asked as he hugged Aragorn, then stepped back so that Elladan could to do the same.

"I have no words to describe my joy of seeing you here," the ranger breathed and then turned to the two men of Rohan.

"My lords Théoden and Éomer, allow me to present Elladan and Elrohir, sons of lord Elrond and brothers of lady Arwen. And of course this is Halbarad, leader of the Grey Company, who has led the rangers this far."

Théoden and Éomer both bowed and pleasantries were exchanged before Elladan gentle tugged on Aragorn's sleeve. In a gentle voice the elf asked, "_Toror'_, may we talk in private?" (_B__rother)_

"_Khila amin_," Aragorn nodded and led both elven men to his tent while the other warriors came out to greet the rangers of the North. (_Follow me)_

When they were alone in the tent, the ranger turned back to greet his brothers once more and they shared his gentle smile.

"It has been too long since last," Aragorn began, "but there will be time for reminiscing later. I feel you have more urgent matters to discuss first."

The smiles quickly faded as the brother's exchanged a look before turning back to their mortal brother.

"We do. We come with instructions from our father to you, Aragorn. But only if you feel up for the task ahead of you now," Elladan said.

For a second, Aragorn merely filled his lungs with air and let the meaning of the words sink in. Without further ado, the ranger nodded simply. He knew were his feet were leading him and for the first time in his life, Aragorn did feel able to take on the responsibilities as future king of Gondor. Should they win the war, the path of king was his destiny.

"Ada has seen the danger which creeps closer, Estel. Not simply from Mordor. There is a secret fleet on the river," Elrohir explained. "The corsairs of Umbar, the black ships, sail to aid Mordor. If they should reach their destination before us, then we will stand no chance of saving the White City."

Aragorn exhaled in weary. The words Gandalf had told him last he had seen him suddenly made sense. "What can we do? There are no more men to call to our aid. Those who are here are all we have."

"We know," Elrohir said. "As does Ada."

"_Nevertheless... _there are more whom you can call upon," said Elladan and his silver eyes gazed intently down at Aragorn.

With hesitation in his voice, the man asked, "_Ya?_"_ (Who?)_

"Those who dwell in the mountain. The ones your ancestor banished there a long time ago."

Aragorn forcefully shook his head. He knew the tale well and therefor could not understand that the option was even presented for him now. "They are not to be trusted! We need able warriors, not traitors from the past."

"You said it yourself, Aragorn... there are _no other_ able warriors. You must follow the Path of the Dead and summon them."

"_How_? How do you propose I do that? They will not follow me, they will follow no one," Aragorn argued as he stepped further away from the elven brothers and faced away from them.

"They will follow the true king of Gondor!" Elladan argued back with a forceful tone as Elrohir beside him pulled a sword hilt from beneath his travel cloak. Aragorn slowly turned around and his eyes were drawn to the hilt.

He felt his heart sped up as the importance hit him. His eyes were wide as he gazed from one elf to the other. "_Narsil_?"

"Reforged," Elladan assented and the gentle smile returned to his fair face. "No more is it to be called by its old name."

"This is _Andúril_, Flame of the West," Elrohir explained and then held out the sword for Aragorn.

The man stepped closer as he spoke, "Sauron will not have forgotten this sword, the sword that once broke his power shall return to Minas Tirith,"

With one fluid motion, Aragorn drew the sword from the hilt. The silvery metal gleamed in the light of a nearby candle and he closely watched the powerful blade as if he could see its past within it.

At that moment the tent opened and Arwen stepped inside. Her silvery eyes shone like stars as she beheld her brothers and stepped over to hug them both.

"Brothers!" she breathed as she stepped back to look up at them. She held onto each of their palms and squeezed tight as she felt tears of joy burn her eyes.

"I cannot believe you did not come for me at once. If I had not met Halbarad outside, I would not even have known you were here," she continued and her brothers smiled apologetically.

The smile did not reach their eyes for in them burned a sadness Aragorn easily recognized. They, too, knew of Arwen's predicament and shared the man's worry for her. Though it was plain to all three men that the elf maiden had sensed the shift in tension, Arwen did not speak of it. Instead her eyes travelled to the strong blade in the ranger's hands.

Her eyes then flew up to meet Aragorn's and with a single look he confirmed her thoughts.

"From the ashes a fire shall be woken. A light from the shadows shall spring. Renewed shall be blade that was broken... The crown-less again shall be king," Arwen whispered and the man bowed his head. As she beheld the scene before her, Arwen felt the candle of hope burn warmer and stronger within her. With new determination, she turned back to her brothers and asked, "And what must we do now, what path does Ada wish for us to take?"

"Sister... You know what path father wishes for you," Elladan answered with a solemn smile.

The elf maiden sighed and let go of her brothers' hands as she stepped back. "Aragorn shares his wish."

Elladan and Elrohir quickly looked over at the man, who simply inclined his head before he re-sheathed the blade.

Elrohir turned back to his sister with a sigh. "Have you considered that they might be correct? That they wish it merely for your sake?"

The maiden's gaze lowered to the floor like a fallen star as her voice, a mix of innocence and irritation, filled the air, "Are you here to sway my mind, too?"

The brothers exchanged another look. "Ada sent us out here to do just so... However, I think he knew it would be futile."

"Arwen," Elladan began and stepped forward to once more press her palm in his. "The decision is yours. We will not make it for you. Nor will we attempt to change your mind, for we all know that is futile."

Arwen smiled and squeezed his hand back. "I thank you for that, brothers. Truth is... I have yet to make my decision..."

"Arwen..." Elrohir stepped forward also and put a hand on his sister's slender shoulder. "_Lle tyava quel?_" (_Do you feel well?)_

"You know my situation, you know I am not well..." Arwen smiled but failed to meet her brother's gaze.

"Irregardless of your choice, we will not see our sister fade," Elrohir said. "We will do whatever is in our power to help protect you."

"Brothers," Aragorn interrupted after a long time in silence. "Will you leave us alone for a few minutes? I think it is time that a decision is made."

Elladan and Elrohir nodded and with no more words they exited the tent. Arwen watched them leave and when they were at last out of sight, she turned back and saw the stoic frame of Aragorn. His face was completely impassive and it broke her heart to see him this stiff around her

With a pained sigh, Arwen admitted, Each time I have come close to making my decision there has been something which has changed my mind. Made me question the decision."

The man nodded in understanding as his pale eyes sought out Arwen's. "You are not entirely undecided either."

The maiden gazed across the small abyss at her beloved. She was surprised at his words and finally consented, "I suppose not."

Aragorn said nothing about confession and after another minute in silence, Arwen continued, "I... have processed the words you told me in Edoras. I understand them... If I leave, we can both move on and have a chance at survival. If i leave... you can have a chance at a _happy_ life with someone else."

The man's eyes flashed with confusion. He had not expected Arwen to fall for his lies so easily and something stirred within him now. Despite this, Aragorn struggled to keep his composure and face impassive.

Arwen lowered her gaze once more as she felt the shadow lurk within. With a shuddering breath, Arwen confessed the secret she had kept from him, "I had another vision, besides the one of Frodo and Sam. I told Gandalf and he suggested it might have been sent by Sauron. That I should not trust it... _Nonetheless_... I know it can still come true if I leave."

As worry spread through his mind, Aragorn quickly urged, "Tell me about it."

A single, silent tear ran down Arwen's cheek as she explained, "I saw you. You and you family. You... were a king, a proud father and a most happy husband. It was a life I had no part of, Aragorn. But you were truly _happy. _If I must leave or die, I still wish that happiness upon you. You deserve it and so much more. I believe that if I leave, it can come true. Still, I have not made up my mind for the thought hurts me... There, I have said what I wished. If you wish me to go to the Undying Lands, just repeat the words now and I will."

Aragorn's eyes were clouded with thought and Arwen swiped at the tear on her face while her heart sped up. This was the decisive moment that could crumble their path or make it grow.

Without any word of warning, the man suddenly crossed the small tent and stood mere inches away from the elf maiden. His piercing gaze seemed to look into her soul for a few pained seconds, before he leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss. Arwen stiffened in shock but soon relaxed into him as both of his arms protectively wrapped around her waist. Aragorn slowly pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers as his eyes once more bore into hers.

"I must say," Arwen began in a slightly husky voice, "that you are beginning to confuse me, my lord."

"Do you honestly believe I could ever love another woman besides you?" was his only reply.

Arwen's eyes flew up to meet his and she could at last read his heart on his sleeve once more. There was nothing but love and devotion reflected in his pale orbs and suddenly she saw all the layers to his love for her. She could see the pain he had hid from her, the pain when he had to lie and say he could find happiness without her and the pain that was ever present and scared for her.

The elf shook her head. "I suppose not."

"Do not _suppose_, Arwen," the man said and his voice grew firm as he held onto her tighter. "I would never - _could never _- find love in a world without you in it."

"Neither could I without you," she whispered back and traced his jaw tenderly with one of her hands. "Still, I ask of you... What do you wish for me to do?"

"Is it wrong of me to admit that I have changed my heart? I, too, pondered your words after Edoras and having now heard you speak o dark visions... I realize you were right. I would rather fight for _us, _as you asked of me, than be parted forever. Though the stakes are higher than I care for, we have all the more to win if we beat Sauron. I think I need some of your legendary hope and patience, too."

Arwen laughed gently as she felt the pressure fly from her chest. "Oh, beloved. Yours words are like music to my ears. I have never been this relieved..."

The man gently cupped her cheek and as he spoke his words dripped heavy with emotion. "Arwen, if you die I will be torn apart... It is my worst nightmare. At least if you remain by side we can fight this. _Together_."

Arwen tenderly gave him a peck before she said, "Then I will remain by your side 'till the end, no matter what end that might be. What must we do now?"

"We must fight Sauron with every power we have. We _will not _lose this war. To win, we will need more force. We must follow the Path of the Dead to find that force."

* * *

"May I look now?" Arwen asked and a smile played upon her lips. Her eyes were covered with two pale, graceful hands and she heard her brother chuckle from behind.

"In a second, dearest sister," was Elladan's response as he led her further through the refuge in the mountains. Suddenly he pulled them both to a halt and quickly uncovered her eyes. In front of them stood Elrohir and in his hands rested the reins of a horse. A white stallion Arwen had not seen for a long, long while.

"Asfaloth!" the elf maiden breathed and the horse neighed happily in response. Arwen hurriedly crossed the short distance and patted the horse's muzzle tenderly. "Thank you for bringing him to me, brothers."

"It was the least we could do," Elrohir said with a grin. "You should get him ready for the journey. We will leave before dawn."

Arwen nodded and hurried back to her tent. When the maiden returned to Asfaloth with her belongings, her eyes caught the sight of something white over on the side.

Arwen looked up to see what it was and noticed it was one of lady Éowyn's long sleeves that carelessly flew in the wind of the night. The fair maiden, herself, had a sad and heartbroken expression on her face and had never looked more fragile. Only a few feet before her stood Aragorn with Brego and the man was the cause of the maiden's woe.

Arwen exhaled and turned from the scene. She didn't need keen elven hearing to know the sad truth Aragorn told the maiden now. Even though she knew Éowyn had to learn, the heartbreak in the other woman's face was still hard to see. And, indeed, if anyone could ever relate to loving Aragorn, it was Arwen herself. She sent a silent pray on the wind that the fair maiden would move on and not lose her spark only because she could never be his. The lady deserved true happiness, perhaps more so than the others for Éowyn had been through much pain and was almost consumed with bitterness and dreams of war.

Arwen's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the shadow once more shifted within her. Its power was increasing and Arwen felt as if a cold wind had passed through her body and ripped at her heart. There was malice and cruelty within her that was not her own and it made her weary. She wobbled in her spot and would have fallen if not a hand had been placed on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and turned to Legolas who looked worriedly down at her.

"I cannot say that this idea much appeals to me," Gimli said gruffly from Legolas other side and let out an audible huff. "And that comes from _my_ mouth, the mouth of a _dwarf_ - a kin that prefers to live below or in the mountains. But there are paths into the mountains not even I care for."

"And yet, Gimli, this is something we must do," Legolas responded.

The dwarf nodded in understanding as he gazed about. "Are we not bringing master Brandybuck with us?"

Arwen shook her head once. "He had pledged allegiance with king Théoden in hopes of doing some good in this war. He is a squire with the Rohirrim now. I only hope we'll see him again soon."

A second later Aragorn lead his horse over to them. Standing on the sideline was Éowyn and her gaze remained dark and unseeing. Arwen could not bear look at the shield maiden and so turned and mounted Asfaloth.

"Are we ready to depart, my lord?" Halbarad asked from further behind as he and his rangers mounted their horses as well and joined them.

"Yes," Aragorn nodded and threw one final glance at Éowyn. It was with a sorrow-filled face he turned back and his eyes sought out Arwen's. She plainly saw that it tormented him to have denied Éowyn a chance at happiness, not because he felt the same, but because he did not. He had never meant to harm her. Nonetheless, it had been inevitable and life had to go on even for the fair maiden. With a last sigh, Aragorn mounted Brego, and addressed the company, "Let us ride. To the Path of the Dead."

And with that he turned his horse around and led Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Elladan, Elrohir and the rangers towards their new path. Right the entrance of it, Aragorn hesitated. He could sense the darkness that hid inside and knew that once he took these steps there was truly no turning back.

Legolas rode up next to his friend and encouragingly said, "Few can see where the path will lead until they stand at the end of it."

Aragorn smiled over at his friend and exhaled. With a firm hand he led steered Brego onto the path and led his company onward.

Éowyn's eyes followed them until they were out of sight between the high mountains. With a deep breath, she looked down to the ground. When her eyes lifted, the sadness from before was gone and apathy was the only thing left.

* * *

"Aragorn,"

The man in question turned and looked at Elladan who had called for him. The latter inclined his head and Aragorn slowed Brego down to ride besides Elladan and Elrohir. He had spent much time with the two men in his youth and could still plainly understand that his foster brothers now wanted a word with him.

"_Mani naa ta_?" he asked. (_What is it?)_

Both elves glanced conspicuously over at Arwen, who was riding further ahead with Halbarad. Aragorn followed their gazes and nodded slowly.

"This is her choice," he said as he turned back to the two elves. "This is _our_ choice."

"So be it, brother," Elladan said and nodded. "This is the way it is supposed to be."

"Aragorn, you are our dearest brother and we could not - even if we bothered to try - find any better man for her. Ada knows this, and that is why he has not forced her to leave," Elrohir explained. "Before we left for Dunharrow, Ada spoke to us. Of course, he asked us to make her see sense but if we were to fail, he asked us instead to keep her safe."

"What can we do for her?" Aragorn asked and allowed himself to feel hope at the prospect of being able to help his beloved.

"Nothing but keep her out of harms way," Elladan said and his response made Aragorn's heart fall again. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a long glance at their brother's ovious woe.

"_Ume dela_, _Estel_," Elrohir encouraged. "I am sure it is not as bad as it sounds." (_Do not worry, Estel)_

"Perhaps not yet. However, I have this fear that it will not be long until something happens. I see it in her already. Her eyes do not sparkle like they always do. Her skin is not glowing with the same shine it used to and her skin is cold. I will help her with what little I can, but still I fear that nothing I do will actually be of help. I wish Gandalf was here, perhaps he could have given me some advice."

"I believe you are helping her more than you think, Aragorn. As her strength weakens she draws from your strength, and that is all she can do to stay… alive," Elrohir said and his voice broke slightly at the final word.

"Then we shall give her all the strength she needs and more!" Aragorn said determinedly and spurred on his horse. The entrance to the Path of the Dead lay not far ahead of the company now and the others waited for Aragorn to ride up to the lead.

All of the horses suddenly panicked as a strong current blew from the mountain entrance and everyone hurriedly dismounted. A few minutes later, the horses had regained their composure and calmed down.

"Follow me!" Aragorn ordered and marched towards the mountain entrance with Brego's reins in his hands. Even though the other horses seemed reluctant to follow, they eventually did, and so the company entered the pathway.

* * *

"I have found, and not so pleasantly so," Gimli began, "that the number of elves in our group keeps increasing."

The dwarf's voice echoed between the walls as they journeyed further down the Path of the Dead on a single line. All of them had their hands on their hilts and looked about if every shadow could betray them. Aragorn remained in the lead and illuminated the path with an old metal torch firmly in his grasp. Where there was no mistaking the others fear, there was also no mistaking Aragorn's determination.

"I suspect that only proves one race's worth, to have so many warriors fighting for them," said Legolas with a teasing smile on his lips. "Would that not then account for the fact that we have only one dwarf in our company?"

Gimli huffed and muttered something about "elves" and "dark places" under his breath.

Their journey continued in silence for a while longer until suddenly Arwen gasped and her eyes widened in surprise. The rest stopped and some of them drew their swords as they looked about without seeing anything.

"What is it?" Gimli asked apprehensively as he protectively stepped in front of her with his axe raised. "What is it you see?"

"Figures," Legolas responded as he looked around, too. "Men and horses. The Dead have come."

"Why?" Halbarad asked from beside the blond elf.

"They have been summoned."

Not a second after Legolas had finished, the company was surrounded by a ghostly mist that obstructed their view.

"What devilry is this?" Gimli whispered as he turned around only to have his eyes meet more mist. The horses suddenly freaked once more and started jumping and shifting their feet nervously.

"We must move forward," said Aragorn firmly and with that walked on. The others did not hesitate to follow their leader.

Within a minute the group entered a vast, empty hall. They journeyed further into it when suddenly a green, shining figure appeared before them half translucent It was a ghost that seemed to float above the ground only a short distance away. His skin was sunken and old and his eyes shone with an eerily glow. Upon the ghost's head was a worn, cobwebbed crown.

"Who dares to enter my realm?" the figure spoke, his voice was hollow and seemed to crawl under everyone's skin.

"One who demands your obedience," Aragorn responded fiercely and his hand flew up to rest on his sword handle.

The ghost laughed and then said, "I am the King of the Dead and you dare demand anything of _me_? You cannot make any demands down here. This is my realm, the realm of the Dead. We keep it, and we pass through it. The living may not pass. The only way out for you now is… death."

As the ghost king had spoken more ghosts had become visible all around them and soon surrounded the small company of brave soldiers in the middle of the hall. They all huddled closer and kept a watchful eye at the ghosts. Arwen glanced from Aragorn to the king of the Dead and saw how both silently demanded the others attention.

"I summon you," Aragorn said at last.

"You are about to die. You cannot summon us."

"_I summon you_," the man repeated in a stronger voice.

"No one can summon us but the true king of Gondor. _Now you die_," the king smirked wickedly.

The ghost king swung his sword down at Aragorn at the same time as the former ranger pulled Andúril from its sheath and parried the attack. The ghost king's eyes widened in shock as he beheld the blade before him.

"That blade was broken…"

"It was remade," Aragorn snarled and pushed away from the king with all his might. The ghost king floated stoically before the ranger and Aragorn turned to watch the other ghosts.

"I am the descendant of Isildur, the one who first trapped you here. I have come to summon you. Fight for me and I will give you your peace! You have my word!"

None of the ghosts said anything. Instead they shuffled around and glanced uncertainly over at their king.

"I summon you to fulfill you oath and then be free from this living death. What say you?"

Without as much as a word, the dead slowly began fade away from the hall as Aragorn kept shouting out his promise to them.

"You waste your time, Aragorn!" said Gimli finally when most of the dead were gone. "They had no honor in life, what made you think they had required some in death?"

The man turned then back to the ghost king and whispered in a commanding voice, "I summon you to fulfill your oath."

The king said nothing as he too vanished into thin air, and with him the last of the dead were gone. A few minutes passed in silence until Aragorn finally exhaled in defeat.

"Come," he said with a heavy tone. "Let us pass through and go for the corsairs ourselves. Let us waste no more time with the dead."

The man led his company through a narrow passage and finally out into the open. The company stepped onto a small grassy slope and saw the river run not far below it.

"No…" Aragorn breathed as he gazed further down the river. The others turned to follow his gaze and saw the black ships already too far away on the waters.

"What do we do now?" Legolas asked but Aragorn merely shook his head in reply.

"We needed their help," said Elladan.

"Without them we cannot defeat the forces of Mordor," Elrohir added and the others silently watched the ships as all morosely realized that their last chance had literally slipped away from them. They had missed it and the corsairs arrival on the battle field would mean the end. They had failed then. They had failed the people of Gondor.

Suddenly a cold wind blew from the cave entrance and the horses neighed anxiously. Aragorn turned back to the mountain entrance just as the king of the Dead appeared before him with a haunting smile on his dead lips.

The translucent ghost king gazed down at the man and simply said, "We answer your summon."


	24. The Battle at Pelennor

**24. The Battle at Pelennor**

"We will soon reach the battlefield!" Halbarad cried out at last after many long hours of sailing towards their goal.

"Ready the men!" Aragorn shouted as he jumped onto deck next to Halbarad. Aragorn surveyed the land before him. He could see the Pelennor fields lay within his reach and he could see thick smoke rise from different parts of it. The battle was already in full swing. Far off in the distance he saw the White City itself surrounded by massive enemy forces. He knew his people were literally fighting for their lives and Aragorn's heart beat with the strong will to help them.

Elrohir and Elladan stepped up next to the man at the same time as Halbarad hurried away to call out orders to the other boats in their conquered fleet.

"This is it," Elrohir whispered to his brother and Elladan simply nodded.

"Let us prepare," Aragorn said with a short nod and turned to make sure that Brego was ready. As he felt the eager muscle ready to join the fight, he knew Brego would do a good job on the battle grounds. The man let his eyes drift from the horse to the bow of the ship where a lone figure stood in the strong, cold winds.

Aragorn exhaled and walked over to Arwen whose silvery eyes shone dimly as she gazed straight ahead. The man followed her gaze and his eyes landed on the fires and shadows of Mordor that lay on the other side of the river.

"I am cold..." Aragorn's head whipped in the maiden's direction as her whispered words barely carried over the wind. With a concerned frown he stepped closer to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It will be well, _melamin_," he promised and squeezed her shoulder tight.

She distantly placed her own slender hand atop of his and it was clear to the former ranger that her hand was colder now than it had been just a few days earlier. However, he was intent on not letting Arwen see his fear on the matter. He gently coaxed her instead to turn from the shadows he knew lurked within his beloved. "Come, Arwen. It is time to fight this evil."

As if his words had lifted a dark spell, Arwen blinked a couple of times, turned from her stance and followed the man to the horses further away on the deck.

Within minutes the ships cruised up to the piers of their goal and stopped. The Orcs on land stepped over and the leader of the Orcs pushed his way to the front while shouting, _"Pirate scum!_ You are late! There's knife-work here that needs doing! Get off your boats!"

The Orc opened his mouth as if to continue but no words came out when a brown steed suddenly leaped from the main ship with a ranger atop its back. The Orcs recollected themselves and prepared for a fight as more horses leaped over the railings and landed before them.

Aragorn looked at the dark creatures before him and pulled Andúril from its sheath. Only seconds after the ghost army streamed through the hull of the ship. The man charged first and the ghosts, rangers, elves and dwarf followed close behind, killing everything that crossed their path.

Aragorn wielded his sword left and right and took out his foes with little struggle. He glanced over at his friends and saw that Elladan and Elrohir had jumped from their horses and instead fought with bow and daggers on the ground. There was already a pile of carcasses by their feet. On the man's other side, Gimli hacked away with his axe at the frightened Orcs. Further behind Aragorn saw Arwen and Asfaloth. The elven maiden swung her own sword with all the might she possessed. Aragorn was both pleased and relieved to find she had found strength enough and he hoped it would last her through the war.

As they continued to fight their foes, enemies fell left and right. Aragorn was beyond pleased to see that his old ranger friends managed to hold their own against the foes led by Halbarad. With unfaltering strength, Aragorn and his army soon made their way further onto the battle field, though the Army of the Dead had managed to get further ahead still.

The joy of this feat was short-lived, however, when suddenly a high-pitched shriek echoed across the battlefields and ripped at their souls. Up above in the air was a Nazgul atop its fell beast that seemed to gaze down at the newly arrivals. Aragorn focused once more on fighting and saw all those close to him do the same. He hoped the Nazgul would leave them for he knew they had nothing to fight it off with. He figured not even Anduríl could slay the undead creature.

"She-elf, time has come to meet your doom!" the Nazgul suddenly hissed with its terrifying voice that reached the core of even the most brave of warriors.

Aragorn's eyes widened in horror as realization dawned on him. This must have been the same Nazgul they had battled off outside of Fangorn earlier and his heart beat frantically as the Nazgul suddenly swooped down towards the ground. Behind him, Aragorn heard Arwen urge Asfaloth to run and just as Aragorn turned he saw the white steed gallop off between the carcasses on the battle field. The Nazgul, however, was close on its tail as it swooped after them.

"_Arwen_!" Aragorn hollered but knew it was useless. He could do nothing to aid her now. He watched in horror as elf and horse disappeared further away from him in the direction of the White City.

* * *

Asfaloth sped through the battlefield, easily making his way past fallen warriors and oliphants, and each time he heard the Nazgul's screech, the steed managed to find the power to increase his steps. Arwen found she was holding on to the reins as tight as she could even though she knew the beast was to close behind to be out-ridden. She didn't dare glance behind for fear of realizing just how close to death she had come.

Unexpectedly a shower of arrows flew through the air at the Nazgul and Arwen turned forward to see who was firing. Over on the side, partially protected behind an oliphant carcass, stood a small troop of brave Gondorian warriors in their silver armor. Each man had a bow in his hands and a new arrow ready on the bow. All the soldiers were awaiting their leader's command, and did not have to wait long.

"_Fire_!" the man in question shouted and Arwen's head whipped in his direction. A knowing smile spread across her face as she steered Asfaloth towards the Gondorians.

The Nazgul's beast let out a pained growl as several arrows struck its chest and it stopped its approach. With only a few seconds hesitation, the Nazgul turned his beast around and once more headed for the White City.

Arwen stopped her horse by the soldiers as the leader removed his silver helmet and looked up at her.

"Thank you, Boromir," she breathed. "You saved my life."

The man shrugged with a grin. "Consider us even then. You saved my life at Amon Hen and I saved yours now."

The elf maiden smiled as she jumped from her white steed to look around the fields.

The battle had calmed down with the diminishing number of Orcs to fight. In fact, the area where Arwen, Boromir and the other soldiers stood was safe from attack with a large pile of Orcs on the ground as the source behind why. As the elf and man watched they saw the fighting seize all over the battlefield and the sounds of war slowly faded into the sounds of death.

Further away, Arwen saw Éomer and a few other Rohirrim walk across the silent battlefield in search of fallen comrades. Several Gondorians joined them as it became clear that this battle had been won by Man at last.

"My city is safe. At least for present time," Boromir breathed in relief. He turned to look back at the elf once more as hope glimmered in his pale eyes. "Tell me, where is my future king?"

Arwen turned in the direction from whence she'd come and pointed towards Aragorn, who stood facing the Army of the Dead. Boromir's eyes widened as he saw the Dead but merely shrugged in acceptance. Both of them watched as the army faded away into thin air having finally fulfilled their oath and earned their peace.

"_No_!" a despairing shout suddenly echoed across the field from Éomer's mouth.

The brave man threw away his helmet as he ran over dead bodies with his pained eyes on one figure and one alone further ahead. He dropped heavily to his knees in great despair and raised the body and cradled it close to his chest as his entire frame trembled with fear. His sobs echoed in the silence as Arwen recognized the familiar figure. It was the shield maiden herself, the lady Éowyn. The elf felt her heart deflate at the sight of the fallen maiden. Though it had been Éowyn's wish to fight, Arwen had hoped it wouldn't have come to this.

At once the victorious mood was exchanged for that of sorrow and despair as more soldiers found those who had fallen and grieved their comrades whilst the smoke of the battle slowly rose to the skies above.

"_Merry_?" Arwen suddenly heard another familiar voice. She turned and was relieved to see Pippin, dressed in Gondorian clothing with the white tree on the front. The small hobbit seemed lost as he walked between the bodies in search of his own friend. Arwen and Boromir wasted no time as they joined him in search of Merry.

At last, they found the hobbit beneath a dead Orc. The Gondorian easily rolled the Orc away from him and they heard Merry's raspy breaths. He was weak but alive. Pippin kneeled by his side and gently shook his friend in an attempt to wake him. "Please, Merry. It's Pip. I need you to wake up."

"I knew you'd find me," came the frail answer and Pippin smiled through his tears.

"I did. And I'm not leaving you," the younger hobbit whispered as Boromir lifted Merry carefully into his arms.

* * *

Aragorn took a deep breath as he stepped into the room high up in the city almost entirely built from stone. He looked around and saw many injured soldiers on makeshift beds. The man stepped further into this, the Houses of Healing, with Boromir only a step behind him.

Aragorn had been most thrilled to see his old friend, just as the Gondorian had been in return. Nevertheless, the happiness had soon diminished when Boromir had admitted he needed his friend's help for personal reasons. Apparently, his brother had received mortal blow in a desperate attempt to win their father's love and Faramir now lay for death. Aragorn had promised to aid and now followed as Boromir led the way further in.

As the two men walked, they passed the bed upon which the badly wounded Éowyn lay and Aragorn's eyes was drawn to her. It seemed she had acquired her wound by killing the Witch king of Angmar. While Aragorn was impressed by her unbelievable feat, he also felt the guilt gnaw inside his chest. If had not been for him, she would not have gone to war and would not have ended up so close to the brink of death. Mentally, he promised himself that he would heal Éowyn as soon as Faramir was helped.

Next to the fallen shield maiden rested Merry, with Pippin and Arwen seated by his side, and Aragorn made the same promise to save his small friend also. In fact, in any way he could he would aid all those within the Houses of Healing.

Finally, Boromir stopped by Faramir's bed and Aragorn hurriedly kneeled by the injured man as he closely examined his arrow wounds. He asked one of the healers for _athelas. _When they brought it to him, the former ranger immediately set to work. When he had done all he could he stepped back to allow Boromir the seat closest to the bed. Slowly Faramir opened his eyes and his elder brother smiled down at him.

"...Boromir?" Faramir asked hoarsely.

"It is I, brother," the man nodded.

"Where is father?" Faramir asked. "The last thing I remember is seeing his face through burning flames… What happened, brother?"

Boromir's gaze was downcast as he explained, "He believed you to be dead and was confident that I had turned against him because I support Aragorn as the true and future king. He thought I was already doomed because of my choices and so tried to have me killed while he meant to burn you and himself. Thankfully Gandalf and Pippin made it there in time to save you as I fought myself free. It was too late to save father though. He fell to his own demise. Father is… dead."

Aragorn didn't stay. Instead he stepped back to allow the brothers some time alone to mourn for their father and process his last actions. The man turned to Merry's bed and began to work on his injuries. Pippin by his side watched Aragorn with wide, fearful eyes.

"Do not worry, friend," Aragorn said when he was done and smiled to Pippin as he placed a comforting hand on Arwen's shoulder. "Merry will live. He'll be fully restored."

"That is good news," Arwen smiled in gratitude and reached for the younger hobbit's hand. "What say you to a break then? Shall we find something to eat?"

The hobbit distantly shook his head even though relief washed over his face. "No. I believe I'll stay here, with Merry..."

Aragorn bowed his head and swiftly moved on to Éowyn. By her side the stoic Éomer silently watched his sister and clung to her hand. In the battle, king Théoden had died and in truth the fair maiden was all the family that now remained for the soldier who would soon have to take the throne after his uncle also.

Without a word, Aragorn began his work and soon had healed the maiden too. With a nod to the fair soldier, Aragorn glanced down at the fair woman a final time and then stood to leave.

* * *

Éowyn stood from her large bed and looked around the room she had been given to have some privacy in the Houses of Healing. It was not much, but it was certainly enough for her recuperation. She'd been in the Houses of Healing for a day now and the sky was darkened outside and stars had begun to shine above.

The fair lady was grateful to be alive but at the same time could not shake off all the recent events she had gone through to get to this point.  
She had killed the Witch king with the help of Merry. She had almost lost her life because of it but lord Aragorn had managed to heal her in time. She remembered the dark shadow which had lingered over her on the Pelennor fields after she had killed the Nazgul. It had been with her last energy that she had crawled over to her uncle who lay crushed beneath a horse. The king had been the very reason why she had attacked the Nazgul in the first place, she had meant to protect Théoden. When she had finally reached him, however, he was beyond her saving and it had not taken long before he had died in her arms.

It was in that moment, when she had found herself alone on the battlefield, that the shadow had overtaken her. The next thing she remembered was waking up in the Houses of Healing with her brother hovering above her. The other healers had been glad to see she was recovering so swiftly and sang Aragorn's praise well.

Though being stationary in a room was more than simply boring, Éowyn could admit that their was some things to this place she rather liked. Only an hour before, she had been walking through the gardens when she had met a handsome, young man, lord Faramir. He had seemed open and genuinely interested in her and they had talked for a long while as the serene evening crept closer.

Éowyn smiled at the memory as she looked out of her window. A knock on the door pulled her back to the present and she turned in time to see Arwen cautiously open the door. For a second, Éowyn thought the elf had been sick herself for Arwen's skin seemed paler then it had ever been and her eyes were tired and exhausted. There were no obvious injuries however and Éowyn could not make sense of it.

"How are you feeling, lady Éowyn?" Arwen asked.

"Better. Thank you," the fair maiden smiled back and turned from the window to give the elf maiden her full attention.

"I am glad to hear that, milady," Arwen said and moved further into the room. She stopped next to the shield maiden and they stood silently face to face for a couple of seconds until Arwen stepped forward and embraced the other lady in a gentle hug. Éowyn was shocked but soon recovered herself and returned the gesture in peace. The elf stepped back once more and smiled down at the fair maiden.

"My friend," Arwen said and Éowyn felt surprised at the words but nonetheless happy that she was considered a friend.

"Tell me, milady," Éowyn said. "What is happening out there? I have not had much interaction with anyone besides my brother. He has only told me things about my uncle that I already was aware of. Please tell me, how are the others?"

"Besides king Théoden, lord Denethor and Halbarad we have lost few of our friends. As always in a war there have been many casualties, but we can still consider us blessed that the number has been relatively few."

"What is to happen now?"

"At dawn tomorrow, there will be a meeting to decide further plans. I am sorry, lady Éowyn, that is all I know for now."

The fair maiden smiled and was just about to say thanks when a second knock was heard on the door. In through the open door way stepped Faramir. His pale eyes immediately found Éowyn's and he smiled tenderly at her before he politely turned to the elf maiden.

"I am sorry for interrupting, my ladies," he said but offered no explanation as to why he had come to see Éowyn at this late hour.

"It is quite alright, my lord," Arwen said and glanced at Éowyn before turning her gaze back to the wounded nobleman. "I do not believe we have met before."

"I am Faramir," the man explained and bowed his head slightly.

"Ah, you are Boromir's brother. Forgive me, I should have known. The two of you truly are alike. Your brother is a formidable man, I have fought with him in several battles," Arwen said. "My name is Arwen Undómiel."

"I am afraid your rumor precedes you, milady. Boromir has mentioned you and the other fellowship members several times," Faramir said and turned to Éowyn who suddenly seemed unable to meet his gaze.

Arwen saw the look the nobleman gave the shield maiden and with a gentle smile said, "It is getting late. I shall take my leave o you now, milady. I promise to return tomorrow after the meeting with more news. Sleep well."

With those words the elf maiden walked out of the room. The other two occupants of the room remained silent for awhile as if scared to be alone. Faramir waited for Éowyn to speak but when it was made clear she was not going to, the man cleared his throat as he stepped over to her side by the window.

"She… She is a very nice lady," Faramir said and looked out at the scenery. "Boromir seems quite fond of her."

"She is already betrothed," Éowyn pointed out.

The man raised his eyebrows in confusion. "I am aware of that, milady."

"Consider it a fair warning, my lord," the shield maiden said with mild bitterness in her voice. "In case you were about to court her, I mean. She and lord Aragorn are set to marry as soon as he becomes king."

Faramir could not conceal his frown as he turned to face the woman by his side. "Why would I court her?"

"She is beautiful, is she not?" Éowyn asked and her eyes finally rose to meet Faramir's.

The man smiled gently. "She is indeed beautiful."

For reasons Éowyn could not explain his simple words felt like poison to her heart and she once more looked down at the floor. Faramir gently placed a tentative hand below the maiden's chin. She gasped slightly but did not pull back from his touch. Tenderly, he raised her cheek so that her ocean-colored eyes looked into his.

"_However_... she is nothing compared to you," he said and Éowyn smiled genuinely up at him.

* * *

With a slight cough Arwen stepped out into the night. She shivered but knew it was not because of the cold night air. Her head spun and she felt herself slip closer and closer to the brink of an endless darkness.

Ever since they had won at the Pelennor fields, she had felt her health deteriorate swiftly. Even during the days before she had sensed that she was getting worse and worse, but it had not been anything alike this. She knew Sauron's powers over her were growing stronger and she figured that perhaps he thrived from having her so close to Mordor. Then again, she could not help but think that Sauron was using his influence in this manner because he was growing more and more afraid as he saw what Man could accomplish. More afraid of Aragorn.

Arwen stepped onto the paved path on unsteady legs and meant to move further up into the White City. Her chamber were still far up the hill and the walk would be a a great strain on her body today.

"Arwen," a voice called to her and she turned to the sound. On her right a figure stood leaned against the wall outside the Houses of Healing. The figure pushed away from the wall and Arwen smiled as she recognized Aragorn as he came towards her.

The smile did not last long, however, as the shadow in her suddenly seemed to stab away at her heart. She held out a frightened hand towards him as everything begun to darken. The future king understood her silent plea as he quickly stepped forward and took her pale hand in his own and held her close to his chest.

"How are you feeling? Be honest with me..." he whispered and placed a helping hand on her lower back. She found no words to describe her state and so merely shook her head.

"_Tua amin_," she finally whispered. "Help me get to my room." (_Help me)_

"Maybe you should stay in the Houses of Healing."

"_Why_? There is nothing they can do for me now," Arwen said slowly and her eyes closed as it grew increasingly harder to keep them open.

Aragorn sighed but reluctantly nodded his head. He knew she was right. "Come then, let me take you to my room. That way I can keep watch over you tonight."

The elf maiden nodded and the man pulled her left arm around his shoulders while his other hand rested on her back. Together they walked up the hill towards Aragorn's chamber.

* * *

_To be continued._**  
**


	25. Death of the Evenstar

**25. Death of the Evenstar**

Come dawn of a brand new day, the sun peeked through the dark clouds for the first time in a long time over Gondor and its surroundings. Though it offered little warmth, it still offered comfort and consolation to those in mourning.

At the top of the White City, in the palace that now stood without its steward and leader, a meeting was held to decide the future. Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Arwen, Merry, Pippin Elladan, Elrohir and Éomer had all gathered to solve the grim problems that hovered on the not so distant horizon.

The topic was of course Frodo, Sam and the Ring of Power. Though the battle at the Pelennor fields had been won, the harder struggle still remained for the two hobbits alone in Mordor.

Despite the knowledge of the topic discussed, Arwen could still not make out a single word from Gandalf's speech. The wizard held the floor as he stood in the center of the throne room, and still it was as if he was too far away even for the elf's keen ears. Arwen stood over on the side in between Legolas and Éomer and she could think of no reason for this sudden loss of hearing.

The elf maiden's eyes were unfocused and her face almost ashen with fatigue. During the night she had slept little, even with Aragorn to keep watch over her restless shape. It had been for naught in the end, for the shadow had caused her too much distress. She could feel Sauron's grasp on her had both tightened and strengthened in a desperate move to regain some control in this hour of despair for him.

The discussion in the room she knew was about the groups options to aid Frodo in any and all ways possible. Arwen knew she did not need to know the details for whatever decision was made, she would surely be counted too weak to act with the rest. In truth, Arwen knew she would not put up any fight against this argument. She felt it clearly now. She had not much strength to fight the darkness within.

The elf's silver eyes travelled across the room to the other members of the fellowship.

Opposite her in the grand room stood Boromir alongside the two hobbits. As the eldest son of lord Denethor, Boromir had been granted the title of Steward after the man's death but had denied that birth right. Instead he had chosen to await the end of the war at which time the true king could take the throne instead.

Pippin, by his side, kept a close guard over Merry's health and never left his friend's side. Arwen knew that already both hobbits had grown, both in mind and height, after their long journey. It was a miracle that they still managed to keep their childish hope and enthusiasm whenever they had the chance to show it.

Further away, with his eyes intent on the talking wizard, stood Gimli to himself. The dwarf, too, had grown and Arwen had high respect for her dear friend now. Still, she knew a warm, lasting friendship had formed between the race of elves and dwarves with the relation between Legolas and Gimli. Something assured Arwen that those two would never part sides even when the war was over.

Close to the throne stood the former ranger with his arms crossed over his chest. He, too, listened intently to every word the wizard said but now and again his eyes travelled to the elf maiden. Their eyes met across the room and the man smiled gently over at her before his focus shifted back to Gandalf.

She saw Aragorn's mouth open as a suggestion passed his lips, but still his words registered faintly and soon sank into the emptiness of forgetting.

Arwen closed her eyes tight and attempted to listen, but even when she strained her ears she could only make out the dull, irregular beat of her own heart. Her lips and throat felt dry, but no beverage could dampen them. Her eyes burned with a fever she did not feel. She knew her body was cool but still she felt a fire internally.

As if in a reflexive reaction to her thoughts, she felt a shiver rock her body as the heat turned to ice and then returned to the fires again. The blond elf next to her was the only one that noticed the subtle shiver and silently watched Arwen closer. They all knew of her predicament but also of her tenaciousness. She had refused to be left out of this meeting and the others had been reduced to keep watch over their friend as she battled her demons alone. Conspicuously, Legolas shifted closer to the elf maiden.

Faintly, Arwen was aware that Aragorn was talking of a diversion to buy their friends time and draw the attention of Sauron away from his own lands. She opened her eyes once more and tried to understand how she knew without hearing, yet could only reach the conclusion that she knew for she was also bound to Aragorn's spirit. While Sauron's hold over her was momentary, her bond with Aragorn was everlasting.

Her vision suddenly faded into darkness briefly but she shook her head to expel all the evil that lurked within. She blinked a couple of times and tried to focus on Aragorn's still blurry figure ahead of her. Her vision too faltered her now, despite her best options and everything turned dark for another second.

At that same moment, Arwen felt a tingling sensation at the base of her spine that slowly crept through her body. She shivered once more, not from cold but from the fear of its meaning. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them once more the darkness was gone but in front of her she could see _him_.

Standing in the middle of the room, close to Aragorn and Gandalf's blurry shapes, stood Sauron, the dark lord, himself. He wore his dark, cold armor of days past and seemed to stand taller than all of them. Arwen felt her heart beat frantically in her chest as if to escape, but she found herself unable to move a limb. As if in a trance she merely stared up at him and no matter how much she willed it, she could not turn her gaze away. She knew this was merely another vision for her eyes only, a manifestation of Sauron's former self. This knowledge did little to diminish her fears.

The dark figure seemed to glance between the former ranger and the elf as it took one slow step forward. In a dark, haunting growl, Sauron whispered, "_Undomíel_..."

Arwen recoiled at the unexpected word and felt the horror spread inside her. The sharp flinch of her body did not go unnoticed for Legolas and Aragorn had seen it. The latter frowned as he tried to understand the flash of fear that lingered in her silvery, wide eyes. His focus shifted entirely from Gandalf as he gazed about in an attempt to see whatever Arwen's eyes were transfixed on. There was nothing behind him, nothing for her to fear. Worry spread through his body as Aragorn realized her vision was on something within her mind and he turned swiftly back. His eyes connected with Legolas' blue ones and the elf nodded as he subtly moved closer to the elf just to be on the safe side.

Arwen, meanwhile, had forgotten about the rest of the world. It seemed to have faded away from around her body and all that remained was the dark lord ahead of her.

"_I know who you are, Undomíel,_" Sauron hissed as he lifted one of his wide feet and stepped towards her.

Arwen's breath caught in her throat, she wanted to call out for help but no sound seemed to escape past her trembling lips. She stood completely immobile as he came closer and closer. The chill and darkness expanded within her chest as she felt her heart slow down by some force she could not control.

"_You are the hope of one I cannot see take the throne_," Sauron continued as he came to a halt merely a feet in front of the elf maiden. "_Therefor, you must die..._"

A sensation of dread seemed willing to claw its way out of her stomach as she saw the armor clad creature raise its hand towards her. The shadow within was on the brink of consuming her entirely as the last of her elven will was forced to flee her body. As the hand rose closer to her throat, Arwen felt it constrict painfully as it became harder and harder with each breath to live. And then, the ironclad hand closed around her throat and at his very touch, the whole world turned into darkness.

Legolas was the first to see her fall, fir he had been prepared for something much like it, and he swiftly turned in time to catch her. The others in the room had faltered in their discussion and turned towards them as they saw the elf maiden land in the strong arms of the blond elf.

"_Arwen_!" Aragorn cried out as he rushed over and knelt by their side. It appeared to all that Arwen was still as dead, and it was not 'til Aragorn touched her cheek that she seemed to inhale a breath.

"What happened?" the man asked and whipped his head in the direction of Gandalf behind him.

The White Wizard stood pensive for a second and said nothing as grim determination slowly crept into his features. He turned his weary gaze from the elf to the future king and swiftly breathed, "Get her to the Houses of Healing. There's no time to spare!"

The man wasted no time as he picked up the elf maiden from Legolas' arms and stood from the ground. In a matter of seconds, he had exited the room with his precious carry and the others followed him close behind.

* * *

As he entered the Houses of Healing Aragorn was met with gasps from both patients and nurses who came towards him with worry in their eyes.

"My lord!" Éowyn cried out as she came running to his side with Faramir close behind. "What has happened?"

"I do not know," Aragorn said and his voice was obviously pained as he gazed down at the fair maiden.

"She needs a bed," Gandalf said as he stepped in through the door behind the man and quickly took charge of the situation.

"Take her to my chamber," Éowyn offered and swiftly led the way.

As they rushed after the former ranger, Merry and Pippin walked right behind the man and stared with wide eyes up at the unconscious form of their friend in Aragorn's arms. The two hobbits exchanged a look of despair as the same thought crossed their mind. What if she was going to die?

Aragorn, too, glanced down at Arwen and felt a brief wave of relief when he saw her breast lift and fall with her shaky breaths, for had he not he would have sworn she looked pale as dead.

Éowyn opened her door and Aragorn hurriedly entered. He walked over to the large bed in the middle of the room and gently placed Arwen down upon the covers. With the sun shining in through the window, the fair elf seemed even paler and closer to death than before.

Aragorn stepped back as Gandalf kneeled by the bed to have a better look at the worn patient. Just inside the room, close to the open entrance, stood Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, Elrohir, Elladan, Éomer, Merry, Pippin, Faramir and Éowyn. They all barely dared to breath as they awaited the wizard's verdict.

Aragorn took another step back as his unblinking eyes stared down at his beloved's pale face. On fatigued legs he sank onto the foot end of the bed and reached out a trembling hand to touch her calf. He hoped she could sense his presence and draw strength from his desperate hope.

"How is she? What is happening?" he managed with a far weaker voice than expected as Gandalf turned towards him.

"It is Sauron," the wizard explained and a grim shadow swept across his face. "I am afraid he is desperately using his strengths and tricks to bring you down, Aragorn. What we have feared is now upon us. The shadow has grown far too strong for the Evenstar to handle... She is slowly fading from us. There is nothing neither you nor I can do for her."

Aragorn shook his head in disbelief as another thought struck him. With new determination shining strong within his pale eyes, he stood from the bed and pointedly looked down at the wizard. "Yes, _there is_."

Gandalf could only frown in confusion before the former ranger swiftly turned and made his way past the others and was soon gone down the hallway.

Pippin glanced between his friends in surprise. "Where did he go?"

* * *

The pale light illuminate the giant, white throne room as Aragorn opened the gates and stepped inside. There was no sign of their previous meeting nor its unfortunate turn upon the white stones as the former ranger strode further inside the empty hall. His heels echoed against the floor with determination as he headed for the white thrones themselves.

As he reached them, he looked down at the Steward's seat at the Palantír that rested upon it. The stone lay dark and cool as Aragorn removed the cloth which covered it. He looked down at the round orb and for the first time since making his decision, he hesitated.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He had to do this, _for Arwen_. This was the only way he could directly contact Sauron and sway his mind even if the thought still scared him. Irregardless, Aragorn would do whatever he had to now to free his beloved from the dark forces that controlled her mind. Even if it meant to finally confront his eldest enemy whom had followed his bloodline for many generations.

Slowly the man kneeled in front of the throne and lifted the Palantír into his hand with only a moment's hesitation. Within seconds he saw shapes take form within the orb and the Eye of Sauron appeared before him. The eye burned hot though the stone remained cool as Sauron scrutinized the man for the first time.

"Long have you hunted me," Aragorn began and his voice was laden with anger and power. He focused hard to not let Sauron enter and read his mind. "Long have I eluded you. _But no more_. I will be King, like my ancestors before me and my sons after I'm dead. I will prevail and prove that the strength that once was my bloodline has not faltered."

He drew Andúril from its sheath and held it up close to his face to ensure Sauron was forced to look at it. "Behold, _Andúril_, the sword that slew you has been reforged. The mark of my people's power. The mark of _my_ power."

The great eye narrowed in frustration before it allowed the scene within the orb to change. The shadows danced across the Palantír and Aragorn could not quite determine what it was changing into until the scene became clear. The Palantír suddenly showed him the pale face of Arwen.

Aragorn felt his breath catch in his throat as he glanced down at the chamber he had just left. By Arwen's bedside, the orb showed him a sobbing Éowyn with tears streaming down her fair face. The others had their heads downcast in sorrow also and Aragorn felt his heart sink as the meaning of it hit him full force like a blow to the heart. Arwen was dead.

In despair and refusal, Aragorn threw the Palantír back onto the throne and stumbled back. As he did, he suddenly felt the Evenstar pendant slip from around his throat where it always hung to remind him of their love.

With terror and pain in his gaze, Aragorn watched as his pendant plunged towards the cold, stone floor.

* * *

"_Oh_!" Arwen breathed and her eyes shot open suddenly. She looked about and even though she could see without shadows or blurry figures anymore, she could not quite remember this bright room. "Where am I?"

Some of the others exhaled in relief and it was Éowyn who first stepped forward to the elf's bedside. "You are in the Houses of Healing, milady," the fair maiden whispered as she sat down on the covers next to the other maiden. "You are safe here."

"Safe?" Arwen asked in a frail voice and her unfocused eyes searched for Éowyn's. "No, I am not safe..."

"Milady?" Éowyn asked and her brow furrowed in confusion.

Elrohir and Elladan also stepped forward to stand on the other side of their sister. Arwen slowly turned her gaze to them and weakly smiled up at them. She extended a shaking hand towards them and both of her brothers placed their own hands within her smaller one. They, too, smiled as tears threatened to spill from their emotional eyes.

"Do not cry for my passing," the elf maiden whispered in a soothing voice. "All will be well."

"Do not speak such words, baby sister," Elrohir whispered back to her as a tear rolled from the corner of his eye. "_You will be well_."

"Let us not tell lies, Elrohir," Arwen said weakly. "I cannot linger for long. Gandalf, old friend, will you help me explain?"

The wizard cleared his throat and bowed his head. "This is the end, I'm afraid..."

"_No_!" Merry cried as he turned his tear-filled eyes up at the wizard while Pippin began to sob beside him. Boromir placed hands of comfort on their little shoulders even as Merry continued, "This _cannot_ be the end! We're so close to winning, she cannot die now! Stop this!"

"I wish I could, Meriadoc," Gandalf admitted in a low voice as tears sprang to his own pale eyes.

"You must not leave!" Éowyn cried out and took a firm hold of Arwen's other hand. She was startled by the coldness of it but refused to show her fears to the elf. Instead, she squeezed it all the more tight within her own. "He is not here. You cannot leave him. At least say farewell to him!"

"Indeed, I'm saddened that I will not get a chance to say my farewell to Aragorn, milady. I wish I could have seen him one last time," Arwen whispered and a lone tear slipped down her pale cheek. "I simply wish there was more time."

"There will be time, we'll find it. Aragorn left the room not long ago. I am sure we can bring him back here and help you overcome this! Somebody, fetch Aragorn!" Éowyn called out desperately without turning around.

Legolas immediately rushed out of the room and the others exchanged knowing glances as he did. Time was not something they had a lot of. And time alone could not heal this particular wound. From the corner of the chamber, Gimli cleared his throat and exhaled deeply as he sank onto a chair.

Arwen glanced at her friends in the chamber as she felt her eyelids grow heavier by every second that passed. The shadow was close to taking over her senses once more and had a much easier time now that her elven powers could not resist their hold. This time, there was no turning back.

Suddenly a child's laughter broke through her thoughts. With a frown, Arwen forced her eyes open and looked down to the foot of her bed. Amidst the sheet and covers of the bed she could clearly see a handsome, young boy. His hair was dark-brown and he had the most beautiful, familiar blue eyes that gazed intently at her. For some reason, she felt peace when the boy smiled over at her.

"_Man le_?" Arwen asked in a frail voice. (_Who are you_?)

"_Eldarion I eneth nin_," the young boy answered. (_My name is Eldarion_.)

"_Amin sinta lle_?" the elf maiden frowned once more. (_Do I know you_?)

Eldarion smiled back, "_Lle naa amin naneth_." (_You are my mother_.)

Arwen's eyes widened as she beheld the child in awe, "... _Mani ume lle quena_?" (_What did you say_?)

"_Avo 'osto, naneth_," the boy said and then smiled solemnly down at her. He bowed his head once and concluded, "_Tenna' ento lye omenta_." (_Do not worry, mother. Until next we meet_.)

With those words the child, Eldarion, faded away and Arwen felt serenity enter her mind at last. The words of comfort her mother had sent her through her trying times now repeated within her head, "_Do not worry, Arwen. Stay strong in your beliefs and all will be well. Trust me, dearest child..."_

"...Arwen?" Elrohir breathed as he saw the peaceful smile spread across her full lips.

The elf maiden turned her attention to her brothers and squeezed their hands before gazing at the others within the room. She smiled at them calmly and then slowly closed her eyes.

"It is time..." she whispered barely audible and drew her final breath.

And so it came to pass that the Evenstar of the Elves faded from Middle Earth and was no more.

* * *

_To be continued...?_


	26. The Shattered Man

**26. The Shattered Man**

The Evenstar pendant plunged towards the floor and as it hit the ground shattered into a thousand shards.

Aragorn numbly watched the shards as the glow from them slowly faded and they became dull and still on the cold floor. He hesitated a few seconds before he knelt down and reached out with a trembling hand towards the remains of his Evenstar.

_The light of the Evenstar does not wax and wane_, Arwen had told him once. Her voice then had been strong and filled with patient love for him. A hope of tomorrow had still burned strong within her, but now that hope lay smashed on the floor before the former ranger.

Though he did not wish to grasp what must be the truth, Aragorn still could not trick his mind. The Evenstar was broken. There was but one reason for it to break, and one alone. What Sauron had showed him within the Palantír had been the simple, painful truth; that Arwen was dead.

Aragorn felt his throat clog up as he tenderly reached for the largest shard among the rest. His hand gently lifted the centerpiece of the former gem and his fingers caressed it as if it was the only thing that remained for him. He feared, in fact, that it was so. And somewhere deep inside his heart, he could feel her absence. He felt alone for the very first time since meeting his beloved all those years ago.

As he sat like that he distantly acknowledged the patter of swift feet coming closer towards him.

"Aragorn!" he heard a voice behind him and without turning he knew it was Legolas who had come found him.

The man closed his eyes tight as he rose from the ground and, with his back still to the elf, clutched the small stone close to his heart.

"Her time is almost at an end..." Legolas breathed and the pain was evident in his low voice.

His words, however, were exactly what the former ranger had expected and feared. Without saying anything, Aragorn turned to face his friend. His eyes met Legolas' for a mere second before the former ranger rushed past the elf with the fear of his heart sounding in the same beat of his feet across the ground.

* * *

As he hurried through the Houses of Healing once more, Aragorn was barely aware of the healers' silence and gloom. They all kept a respectful distance from the man they one day would call king as he walked past the beds filled with patients who could but offer him looks of condolence.

Without thinking about his path, he found his legs carried him down the corridor towards Éowyn's chamber and as he rounded a corner, time suddenly seemed to slow down.

Everyone in the room turned towards him as he entered the crowd. Tears streamed down some of their faces as they all stepped back to let the man pass through. All of this, Aragorn was unaware of for his eyes had rested on Arwen's still form the second he had entered the chamber.

He felt his heart constrict at her innocent, breathtaking beauty which she preserved even in death. Her skin and full lips were ashen as all of her elven glow seemed gone from her. Her long raven hair stood in stark contrast to the paleness of both her skin and the sheets upon which she rested.

The man released a heavy breath as his feet slowly moved him closer towards the bed. With each step, he felt his heart slow until it came to a halt as he stopped by her side. Éowyn stood from the be and moved aside in silence while tears streamed down her cheek. Faramir gently reached for her and the shield maiden stepped into his waiting arms and sobbed.

Aragorn kneeled down on the ground by the bed and cautiously placed both of his hands on the sheets next to his beloved. He exhaled once more and then placed one of his calloused hands atop of her cold one.

It was not until then that it truly hit him, the second he touched her icy skin Aragorn knew she truly had been robbed from him and would never return to his side. He had never thought he'd live to see the day on which the Evenstar lay dead before him, but now it was upon him whether he liked it or not. The future they for such a long time had awaited and planned for would never come to pass. He would never live through any of the joys of being her husband, nor would he ever get to treasure the sight of her as a mother to his children.

Instead, he would now have to bury her. He would have to lay her to rest before their life together had even truly begun. It was over.

In that second, Aragorn didn't care for anything outside the palace walls. He didn't care about Frodo or the Ring nor the fate of his people. He could only sense his own heartbreak and sorrow over the fact that he had not been able to give Arwen the life she had deserved and desired.

Unaware that tears ran down his cheeks, Aragorn leaned forward until his head rested on both of their hands and his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

The others in the room shared his pain and solemnly admitted that there was nothing they could do for him. Over by one of the walls Merry held on tightly to Pippin, who was sobbing uncontrollably, while slow tears ran down the older hobbit's cheeks as well.

Faramir still held an arm around Éowyn's slim waist and a supportive hand atop of Boromir's shoulder. The younger man had not had the time to get to know the lady but still understood enough of their grief to offer them genuine comfort.

Gimli huffed and swiped at his eyes furiously when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, the dwarf looked up from his seat and saw Legolas standing by his side. Wet tears threatened to spill from the elf's pale, pained eyes and Gimli put his own friendly, supportive hand atop of the elf's. Next to them stood Elrohir and Elladan and silent tears slid down their cheeks as they beheld their younger sister with more pain than they could bear. Silently their thoughts carried the sad news home to their kin.

Gandalf, who remained the most focused in the room, was the first to step forward and put a consoling hand atop of Aragorn's head. He spoke in a soft voice, "Come, Aragorn. I know this sorrow burdens you greatly, as it burdens us all. Nevertheless, we must not let this defeat bring us to defeat. We must fight on. We must help Frodo, or all is lost."

Aragorn's shoulders stilled but his head remained down even as the wizard finished.

"It is what she would have wanted," Gandalf continued and removed his hand when the former ranger raised his gaze.

Aragorn looked down at Arwen's peaceful face. He leaned close to her face and whispered into her ear, "_Namarië, meleth nin._" (_Farewell, my love_)

With those final words he begged his ancestors to grant him strength in the hours of need ahead and stood from the ground to face the White Wizard.

"You are right, my friend," Aragorn said in a somber tone. "We will fight. Boromir, have all able soldiers prepared within the hour. We ride for the Gates of Mordor as soon as we can."

With those words he walked out of the room and he did not once turn back for fear of never being able to move on if he did.

* * *

Some time later, Aragorn found himself back in the throne room. The shards of Arwen's pendant had been cleaned away and the man merely stood gazing at the floor where they had previously been.

Since leaving the Houses of Healing, Aragorn had changed into a true Gondorian battle outfit befit for the king. Upon the black fabric of the chest was the white tree of Gondor and the symbol alone gave him some strength even in his current state of mind. He was well aware of the importance of finally being dressed in the attire. This was his moment to embrace his future as the true leader of his people in need.

He had once dreaded this moment with all his heart for he had never thought he could be worthy of the role his blood had honored him with. Nevertheless, with the help of Arwen and the others he had come to accept and embrace his destiny and knew he could no longer run from it. He felt as if he had been walking upon the path for a long time, but blindfolded. It was not until after the adventures he'd shared with the fellowship he'd been able to remove it and proceed towards the goal.

Now, however, that strong determination had begun to waver. The one person that had always kept him on his path and given him the strength he needed, was gone from him. The more he thought of it, the more hollow he felt. When the pendant had shattered, so had his heart.

"How can I move forward now?" he asked and turned his head to glance at the three men who stood several feet behind him.

Legolas, Gimli and Boromir were all battle clad and ready also and they exchanged a look at Aragorn's bitter words. Boromir, dressed in a simpler Gondorian armor took a step forward and spoke, "My lord... You will be a _great king_. Do not doubt yourself, Aragorn. You have come this far and you will take us all much further."

"King…" Aragorn echoed and the word suddenly tasted bitter in his mouth. "How can I be king without my queen?"

To this, Boromir had no reply and so simply stepped back in silence.

The former ranger shook his head and once more turned his back to his friends. He looked down at the strong Andúril in his hands, the sheathed sword that held both his ancestry and future. There was no turning back now. He was no longer on the run and would see this through, one way or the other.

Someone cleared their throat from further back and Aragorn was abruptly pulled from his reprieve. As he turned to look he saw Éomer had joined their small group.

The fair man bowed his head respectfully and sadness was reflected in his dark eyes. He, too, would soon bear the same burden of royalty Aragorn would, and he, too, had lost loved ones in this war. It was no wonder to Aragorn then that he saw such understanding in the man's eyes.

"All soldiers of Rohan are prepared as well as those of Gondor, my lord," Éomer said.

"Good," came Aragorn's short reply as he nodded once.

"My lord…" Éomer began but hesitated.

Aragorn read the intent in the lord's eyes and nodded wistfully. "Better to have loved and lost...?"

Éomer's smile was grim but honest. "I still believe so. Remember, the battle is not lost."

"But it is..." Aragorn murmured as he put on his sword belt around his hip.

Éomer did not comment upon it, but rather subtly changed topic as he said, "About... lady Arwen's body, may I help prepare arrangements and send a message to her father of the unfortunate events?"

Aragorn shook his head, "Thank you, Éomer, but that will not be necessary. Once we return, I shall ride to Rivendell with her body myself. You have enough responsibilities to prepare for your uncle's funeral. Besides, lord Elrond is already aware of the death of his youngest child. He can feel it from afar."

"We shall go with you to Imladris," Legolas said and in doing so spoke for himself, Boromir and Gimli.

"You are not alone in this," the dwarf assured.

Aragorn did not reply to this but only nodded as darkness hovered across his face.

"Come. Let us go help Frodo and Sam," Boromir said at last and together the five men left the room.

* * *

Aragorn sat¨stoic in the saddle atop of Asfaloth. He had decided to borrow the noble, elven steed to feel some sort of attachment to his loved one and keep her memory alive, even if it was only a simple gesture. Asfaloth was aware of his mistress's death as Aragorn could feel and he stroked the horse's neck.

The man turned to gaze out at all the soldiers around him, either by horse or by foot, who had ridden out with him. There was not a single face void of fear of what they knew lay ahead, still they had come. They all knew that the outcome of this last battle would not determine the fate of Middle Earth but was rather a diversion for Frodo's sake. The fact that this was only a decoy kept many spirits low for all knew they were heading to almost certain death.

Shadowfax appeared by the former ranger's side and Aragorn turned to watch the wizard atop. In front of the wizard sat Pippin atop the white steed and his eyes were intently gazing ahead at the lands of Mordor. Aragorn's eyes met Gandalf's just as the first drops of rain fell from the grey skies above. Aragorn turned his gaze upwards as several more drops fell but still it remained calm and almost soothing. It was nowhere near as heavy as the rain which had fallen at the battle over Hornburg.

Gandalf smiled and commented, "This is a good sign. It means the filth of Sauron and his minions is about to be washed away."

"No," Aragorn said somberly. "It is the Valar, crying over the loss of their Evenstar."

"Perhaps you are right," the old wizard began with a nod. "If you are correct, you should show the Valar that she is not truly gone from us. Fight this battle for her, Aragorn."

"Do you think I would fight for anyone else?" the man asked sourly and a small frown appeared upon his brow.

"Of course not. But I see in your eyes a will, no, a _wish_, to give up and withdraw."

"I will not lose, old friend. And neither do I wish to do so."

"Aragorn…" Gandalf began slowly for he saw right past his friend's lies. "Do not go into battle filled with hatred and no control, then we are doomed. You must lead your people with power and control. They will follow your example, don't make that example a terrible one."

"Let us simply ride to battle," Aragorn said and ignored Gandalf's final sentence as he spurred Asfaloth forward. The troops around them too sped up to follow their leader and future king.

Gandalf heaved a sigh as Pippin looked up at him. "Have we lost him too, Gandalf? Is there any way to stop him from joining Arwen in death?"

The wizard shrugged and spurred Shadowfax on. "I wish I knew, Peregrin... I wish I knew."

* * *

Soon the large company of soldiers reached the Black Gate of Mordor. Aragorn raised an arm to stop his army and then exchanged a glance with Gandalf by his side.

This was it. They had reached the moment in which they had to pull off their biggest scheme thus far on their long journey. They now had to convince Sauron that their attack was genuine and not a decoy in order for the Eye to turn towards them an away from the shadows which lurked between the massive gates.

Aragorn drew a deep breath and cleared his head of the dark thoughts that resided within now. Deep inside, he knew Gandalf's words of encouragement had been true. He had done a lot for Arwen, but he would not abandon his people because of her death. He collected his shattered thoughts as he gazed up at the fires and smoke before him coming from the dark lands. He was ready for this.

The man nodded once to the wizard before he spurred Asfaloth forward. Along with the horses of Gandalf, Legolas, Éomer, Elrohir, Elladan and Boromir he rode towards the Black Gates. The horses stopped right before them and the small group looked up at the thick, iron wall that met them as the rain kept falling from above.

"Not a very hospitable place..." Merry muttered from where he sat in front of Boromir on the horse.

"What now?" Pippin whispered up to the wizard.

"_Sch..._" Gandalf hushed in return.

"Let the Lord of Mordor come forth!" Aragorn shouted in a demanding tone. "Let justice be done upon him for his dark deeds!"

A few seconds passed before loud creaking noises echoed across the field as the gates begun to open before them. The company backed away their horses and looked forward as a dark rider upon a dark horse emerged from the swirling shadows of Mordor. The peculiar rider wore a large, iron helmet that covered most parts of his face except his wide mouth.

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids you welcome," the figure, known as the Mouth of Sauron, greeted as he halted his horse several yards from the company. A broad grin spread to mock them all.

Aragorn frowned at the figure's mockery but refrained from commenting.

The Mouth of Sauron asked for anyone to treat with to which Gandalf hastily informed him they had not come to do so. The wizard then proceeded to give the Mouth of Sauron a message to deliver to his master; Sauron's troops must immediately surrender, or be slaughtered for their dark deeds.

The Mouth of Sauron turned his head towards Gandalf as the wizard finished.

"Old Grey Beard," he snarled in a dark voice and with his dark smile ever mocking. "My master asked me to give you something. He thought you might recognize the trinket."

With those words, the Mouth of Sauron threw a rustling object at Gandalf, who wordlessly caught it in his hands. All turned to watch Frodo's old mithril shirt and were unable to hide their pain as the Mouth of Sauron told them all about the torture and ultimate death the Half-ling had endured.

"Who could have thought one so small could endure so much pain…" the Mouth of Sauron concluded. "And he did, Gandalf. _He did_."

"Lies!" Aragorn called out and their adversary immediately turned towards him instead.

"Is this the heir to Isildur? How disappointing," the Mouth of Sauron commented as another kind of wicked smile spread across his foul lips. "My master asked me to pass a message onto you as well."

The former ranger stiffened at this and his glare only grew harder as his enemy's smile grew wider.

"My master wished for you to learn that he took great pleasure in shortening the life span of the Evenstar of the Elves." Aragorn spurred his horse forward as the Mouth of Sauron continued, "My great master did, however, think it a loss that she had to meet an early doom just for her love of a mortal man. The man of a weak heri-"

The sentence was never completed as Aragorn swung his sword and chopped off his head, the Mouth of Sauron fell dead from his horse and Aragorn turned back to his friends.

"I do not believe him! Frodo is not dead._ I refuse to believe so!_" the man said and his eyes danced with conviction and with a blatant dare for anyone to prove him wrong.

Before anyone else could react, the sound of stomping feet and Orcs growling in vast numbers reached their ears. Aragorn glanced behind him and saw the army of Mordor advance out through the open gate.

"Fall back!" he ordered swiftly and together his company rode back to the waiting band of soldiers.

As Aragorn drew near he could see the soldiers evident fear had returned and knew without conviction they were lost, as he had almost been. He glanced down at the eagle-shaped, green brooch he wore on his shirt and remembered Arwen's words to him when she had presented the gift to him. '_Find the hope you are meant to bring'. _In an effort to give his men some of that hope, he spoke to them all in a voice that rang clear and mighty across the plains.

"Sons of Gondor and of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down. _But it is not this day!_ This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West! "

The soldiers were immediately invigorated by their leader's speech and drew their swords to follow him into battle. Their company was outnumbered by the Orcs, as had been expected, and the foul enemies soon surrounded the soldiers. By doing so, they cut off all of their exits and the only way out now, was to win in fair fight.

Aragorn swallowed the last of his own fears and turned to his friends. "For Frodo," he breathed and then urged Asfaloth forwards as he raised Andúril above his head as the others followed him close behind.

Asfaloth knocked several Orcs to the ground as he barged straight into the enemy lines while Aragorn hacked away with his mighty sword. Soon the battle had commenced all over the field. As soon as the soldiers slew one foe there was another right there, waiting to fight the inevitable battle. If they faltered for a second, the Orcs got the upper hand with their number and strength and so everyone focused even harder.

Then in the heat of the battle, the remaining Nazguls arrived with terrible shrieks that echoed in the open. Aragorn glanced up at the skies at them. He knew full well that if the fell beasts attacked the soldiers now, his army would stand little chance of survival.

When all hope seemed lost, the eagles suddenly appeared and attacked the Nazguls' fell beasts. Aragorn smiled in relief for it offered them some much needed assistance. This emotion didn't last long, however, as a loud growl echoed behind him. The former ranger turned in his saddle when something suddenly flew at him and knocked him off of Asfaloth.

The man landed hard on the bare ground and shook his head to clear it after the fall. As he raised his eyes, he saw the force which had knocked him from his saddle; a giant troll stood but a few feet from him now with a giant blade in its strong grasp. The troll snarled at the fallen man and lashed forward. Aragorn barely had enough time to roll out of the way before being trampled to death.

He turned on his back as the troll advanced on him again. The man knew the creature would soon be upon him once more, but something stopped him from escaping. It was as if his heart called out to his numb mind from within. It was a pain that pleaded with him to simply let the troll end his life so that he could meet Arwen in an afterlife. The thought wasn't too foreign to him and as the troll neared he indeed remained motionless.

Then suddenly his mind awoke and rattled the cage with fury. He had come this far, he would not surrender. He had already made the promise to himself, and now knew he also had to live it. Arwen was dead, but he wasn't. His people wasn't. This was the difference between thought and action, and he had to follow his path.

And though it hurt to admit, Aragorn knew Arwen would have only wanted him to live and prosper even in a world without her. She wouldn't want him to give in without a fight, without proving to the world and himself just what he was capable of. He would live, for her.

With a growl, he pushed off the ground just as the troll brought it's blade down upon him. Aragorn parried the blow with Andúril and backed off prepared for another blow. The troll swung it's weapon again and Aragorn rolled to the side in a fast, fluid motion and at the same time managed to cut the troll in its leg. The beast snarled in pain and swung wildly at him with his other hand. The large limb hit the man and the future king was thrown through the air.

Aragorn landed hard on his back once more as all air was knocked from his lungs. He turned as the troll advanced one final time with it's blade raised high and ready to kill the future king of Gondor.

Not a second later a pained screech suddenly erupted form the darkness of Mordor. The battle stopped and all gazed over at the dark tower. At the top, the Eye of Sauron seemed to twist and turn in agony as the tower itself began to crumble. It did not take long for the Eye to implode and send a vast shock wave through his dark domain. Mordor collapsed, too, and as the ground crumbled the Orcs fell into a bottomless abyss.

The Ring was destroyed at last. It was over.

* * *

_To be continued!_


	27. Return to Life

**27. Return to Life**

Shadow. Darkness.

Both seemed to confusingly familiar to her in some away. The first thing that came to Arwen's mind was that day in Fangorn when she had fallen unconscious and her father had guided her back onto her path. Yes, journey into darkness had felt very similar to this.

Still, there was only an empty nothingness in this place and no guiding hand for her to reach out for. She had no memory of how she ended up here, in fact all her memories seemed to come and go in sporadic bursts. Some important conversations from her journey with the fellowship came and went in the darkness like an echo. Arwen listened closely to the words as she tried to make sense of it all.

"_Frodo, don't give in! Not now... What grace has been given to me, let it pass to him. Let him be spared. Save him."_

_"There is one who could unite the world of Men… One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor."_

_"__A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Aragorn. Ú______ or le a ú or nin."_

_"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."_

_"Ten companions. I, too, will follow Frodo into the darkness of Mordor."_

_"There is only death waiting for you here."_

_"It was a dream, Arwen. Nothing more."_

_"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing."_

_"The two of you will be separated, only time may tell if you will find your way back to each other before the end."_

_"... What if I am not the great king everyone believes I will become?"_

_"The life you deserve might never exist... The only way you will be guaranteed safety and happiness is in the Undying Lands."_

_"I did not realize the Ring had grown to be such a burden, Frodo."_

_"You're trying to control something that cannot be controlled. You and Strider are afraid of what lies ahead, we all are... But if we give in to fear we have already lost against the shadows."_

_"If you die and Aragorn is present, forced to watch you succumb to a faith he may not see for many long years, he will be helpless. He will never be able to rule his people then. And do you believe he will be able to live on? He would be more pained by your death than your parting to Valinor. Just as I and all of our kin would be."_

_"Why is this happening to me?"_

_"When the Fellowship set out on our quest the bond between Sauron and Frodo grew stronger, because of the Ring, but also Sauron's hold on you."_

_"I know that my elven life ought to be enough to save me from his powers, but my decision to remain behind has weakened even that part of me. My elven life is fading, Aragorn."_

_"Arwen, if you die I will be torn apart... It is my worst nightmare. At least if you remain by my side we can fight this. __Together_."

_"... I wish I could have seen him one last time."_

_"__I know who you are, Undomíel. __You are the hope of one I cannot see take the throne. __Therefor, you must die..._"

Then, she was dead.

This conclusion didn't quite sit right with the elf maiden now that she pondered it. If she was dead, why was she still trapped in these never ending shadows?

Then all seemed to reveal itself before her inner eye as if a veil had been torn from her eyes; this was simply another trick of Sauron. He had managed to trap her inside this darkened place once more after all and knew full well how to bend the light into darkness.

Arwen could not help but wonder if the dark lord had trapped her instead of killing her because his own powers were waning. This thought offered her strength and suddenly not everything seemed void of hope. If Sauron was weakened it was because of Aragorn's journey towards his throne and Frodo's path towards destroying all this evil. It meant their chance of success were greater than anticipated, they might have won already.

Irregardless of this knowledge, Arwen knew she would still be stuck no matter what. And this time Elrond would not come to her aid. Instead she would have to escape herself. She had no idea how.

Arwen focused her energy on the bond she shared with Sauron. If he could use it against her, perhaps she could do the same towards the dark lord. As if a distant tingle, she felt that Sauron's mind was occupied elsewhere. There was something else which held his full attention.

In a flash of light, she saw a battle outside the gates of Mordor. More visions of soldiers battling the Orcs and blood being spilled flashed before her eyes. Somewhere in the middle she saw Aragorn fighting a large troll but the image was ripped from her before she could see the battle's end. Panic spread through her mind for she had seen he had been in great peril indeed. After everything they had fought for, he could have been killed by a troll.

There was of course the possibility, too, that he thought her dead for real. When he had entered the battle, this had been the general consensus. Arwen now knew she truly must get out and tell him she was not dead and reassure him of her safety. Perhaps then she could help him fight. Desperately, she searched for a way out.

As if the shadows had heard her plea something suddenly shifted within her and she saw a faint outline of a pale light ahead. With all the will she could muster, she moved towards it and the tight hold of the darkness loosened as Arwen pulled free.

The elf maiden opened her eyes and looked around. She was back in the Houses of Healing and the memories of her last moments here flooded back to her. She still remained in the room she had been laid to rest within. The stone walls were bare and illuminated by the pale light from outside the window. A couple of flowers lay strewn across the bed around her and her clothes had been changed; now she wore a white, funeral gown.

Carefully, Arwen sat up in the bed and then proceeded to stand on wobbly legs. There was no time to spare now and she fought through a wave of dizziness. She had to get out of the room, she had to find Aragorn.

With bare feet she walked over to the door and opened it. The narrow hallway outside was empty so she continued on her path.

She came around a corner when voices reached her keen elves ears. She recognized the voices of Éowyn and Faramir and quickened her pace. She walked into what appeared to be a stone garden of sorts and in the furthest corner away from her she saw Éowyn and Faramir stand close with their backs to her. Éowyn's head rested tenderly on Faramir's shoulder as the man's arm was wrapped around her slender waist.

Arwen walked closer to see what they gazed at for she knew that out of her eyes reach the final battle was still fought outside the gates of Mordor.

"Are we winning?" Arwen asked without bothering to announce her presence in any other way as she came to stand beside the other two.

Both Éowyn and Faramir jumped at her words and the shock was evident in their wide eyes as they turned towards her.

"M-milady?" the shield maiden asked breathlessly. Her ocean colored eyes seemed not to believe the vision before her, but when she realized Faramir was seeing the same thing, she turned back with a small flicker of hope in her gaze.

"I am alive, Éowyn," Arwen whispered gently.

"But how would it be?"

"For I was never truly dead, milady," the elf explained. "It know it must have seemed that way, but I never passed entirely into the lands of the dead. I was trapped in shadow, but escaped. I am still here, and I assure yo that I will not die any time soon."

"I… I still do not understand how this could be," Éowyn breathed.

Arwen merely nodded in understanding of the shield maiden's surprise. Nonetheless, Arwen did not feel a wish to explain any of the dark things she had been through. All she desire to know was whether Aragorn was well or not.

The conversation between the three was abruptly interrupted in that moment as a screech echoed from Mordor and the dark tower collapsed with a massive explosion. The rest of Mordor seemed to follow in the fall as Arwen, Éowyn and Faramir turned to watch it. Fire burst from Mount Doom as the destruction came towards an end.

"What is happening?" Faramir asked.

"_Frodo_," Arwen whispered back. Her eyes watched as the volcanoes erupted fiercely. "He and Sam must have destroyed the Ring."

"So… it is over? We have finally won?"

"Yes, my lord," Arwen smiled and turned to her two friends. "It is over."

Her smiled was returned and the elf maiden found herself pulled into a warm embrace by Éowyn.

"I feel my previous fears evaporate into thin air faster than they ever came to me," Éowyn began as she pulled back and clutched the Gondorian's hand within her own, "They are replaced by feelings of joy and warmth. Look, the sun is coming out."

True enough, the clouds separated to let the sun peek through and gave them a warm glimpse of the future.

"Milady!" Éowyn suddenly exclaimed. "Lord Aragorn, he… was deeply distressed by your death, as you must be aware. He will be greatly pleased of your return."

"Yes, I do hope so," Arwen smiled. "But please tell me in what manner he rode from Minas Tirith?"

"What do you mean, milady?" Faramir frowned.

"Was he collected or broken?"

"He seemed to be as collected as can be expected of a future king, I suppose," the man spoke as he shrugged. "Though I thought he was a bit impassive even for the decoy mission. But I do not think you need to fear. Boromir said that lord Aragorn would lead them to victory, and I believe him."

"I hope you are right," Arwen said. "But still I feel a sense of fear inside despite your kind words. I fear he might have been injured… or worse out there. I must make sure he is safe. I can sense that they are coming back home now. I must see if he is among the returning soldiers."

Éowyn and Faramir bowed their heads as Arwen quickly rushed from the room.

* * *

Asfaloth steered his way towards the White City with new joy in his every step as Aragorn mutely sat on the horses back. They'd won. It was over. The Ring was destroyed and Middle-Earth was saved. Still, the joy did not quite reach the future king's heart. His soldiers, however, were cheering loudly and enjoying their courageous victory. Aragorn glanced at a couple of soldiers ahead of him who sang a cheer at the top of their lungs, in hope that their song would reach the people within the city walls.

Aragorn smiled at their song but could not help but glance backwards at the remains of Mordor. Faintly he could see the Eagles fly towards Mount Doom and atop of the leader, Gwaihir, flew Gandalf. The wizard had called the eagles to him after the battle ended and told Aragorn that he must make quick haste to Mount Doom to make sure Frodo was alive. Though this seemed highly unlikely as the volcano had erupted not long after the black tower had fallen, meaning that any survivors within the mountain must surely have died at that time.

Aragorn sighed and lowered his head. This victory should be unhampered and sweet, not burdened with sorrow for their friends. If Frodo and Sam were dead they had sacrificed themselves to save all others, they had died doing the most honorable of things. Their memory should be honored. And then there was Arwen… her death was still to great for his mind to even consider in closer detail.

By his side the former ranger saw Boromir turn to him but refrained from making a comment, and for this Aragorn silently thanked him. He didn't wish to talk anymore. All he wanted was to go home to Minas Tirith and have a few minutes of solitude in his despair. He needed time to be alone now for he was certain he would never be able to heal on the inside and the outside if he did not.

As if to remind him, his ribs stung and Aragorn shifted in the saddle to accommodate for the pain. He pressed a hand to his bloodied side where the troll had stabbed him quite good before Aragorn had managed to get away. Had it not been for the destruction of Mordor, Aragorn was sure the troll would have killed him. Now, he would only carry a scar once the injury healed.

Aragorn exchanged a glance with Boromir as they rode up to the entrance to the White city and both men spurred their horses on as they entered their home.

"People of Gondor!" Aragorn cried out to the large crowd gathered along the streets. "We have defeated the evil of Mordor! Lord Sauron has been defeated. You will not need to worry yourselves anymore. There will be no more war but only peace from this day!"

At the end of his speech the crowd cheered loudly and walked after them to thank the band of brave soldiers. Aragorn spurred his horse forward and smiled down at his people as he passed them. In their eyes he saw their admiration and gratitude as they bowed their heads for him.

Suddenly a familiar voice broke through Aragorn's thoughts of his beloved and for a moment he wondered his own mind was playing him tricks as he swore it sounded alike Arwen's gentle, dulcet voice. He turned back to the Gondorian by his side but the man seemed busy with the attention of the citizens.

Then the future king heard the voice once more, "Aragorn!"

Aragorn looked up towards a staircase not far away and his eyes widened in shock. For coming down the steps was none other than his beloved, dressed in a simple white dress that flowed with her every move, and it seemed to him as if she shimmered in the softest of elven lights.

She was running towards him with a smile on her lips as Aragorn noted that she was bare feet as well. She must have come straight from the Houses of Healing. The vision was familiar to him for he remembered vividly the day of the Council of the Ring when she had come for him and Gandalf in much the same way. Her beauty's run seemed to have made time itself take pause and everything else seemed to fade away as Aragorn tried to grasp whether this was reality or truth. He heard Boromir's shocked gasp beside him and that was all he needed to know the elf maiden was really there.

Still in shock Aragorn leaped off Asfaloth and watched as Arwen ran through the crowd and came to a halt a few feet before him.

The man once more took in her appearance to make sure he wasn't seeing things. His mouth hung open slightly and he was sure he hadn't even blinked in a long, long while. His eyes travelled back up to her fair face where her silver eyes met his with a sparkle in them that he so long ago had fallen in love with.

"It is me, Aragorn," Arwen whispered in reassurance with a smile and Aragorn felt how her words pulled from his shock as if they had been magic.

With one wide stride, he was suddenly touching her, he pulled her into a tight embrace and lifted her as he spun them both around. She laughed and Aragorn thought he had never heard anything so sweet and vivid before. Finally, he stopped and gently put her back down on the ground still with his arms tightly wrapped around her waist. He hungrily kissed her before she even had a chance to react as he felt a need to taste the breath of life in her. Aragorn poured all of his love for her into that kiss and hoped she felt it. He was happily aware of her arms which snaked around his neck as she deepened the kiss with a delighted moan.

Aragorn pulled back and gently placed a hand on her cheek to once more reassure himself that it wasn't a dream. He had lost her once. He had to know she was truly alive before him because he could not take losing her a second time now.

"It is you, isn't it?" he whispered.

Arwen only nodded in response and moved one hand to his cheek to wipe away a tear that he hadn't even been aware of having shed. Aragorn leaned in close and kissed her cheek, nose, eyebrow, forehead... any exposed skin on her face that he could find really, and for this he was rewarded with a giggle and an even tighter embrace.

The dark thoughts that had occupied his mind before seemed to have flown away with the wind now that he held his elf maiden in his safe arms. Things were looking up now that she was back in his life. Not only had Sauron been defeated but now Aragorn was truly certain life would be well once more. The future and life he had thought he had lost had been given back to him and for this he felt ever grateful. Holding her tight, Aragorn promised himself yo never let her go.

He wished to remain in their position, with her in his arms, forever, but the pain in his ribs soon became too much to bear. He winced as he felt his wound open up and Arwen quickly stepped back. Without asking, she looked down at his chest and a gentle hand sought out the wet blood on his shirt. Aragorn glanced down as well and grimaced as he realized that he'd gotten blood all over her white, untarnished dress. This, however, Arwen seemed unaware of as she closely inspected his wound.

"You need to get to the Houses of Healing," she said finally as her eyes found his again.

"_I'm fine._.. As are you. I cannot believe my fortune," Aragorn murmured as he fought to ignore the pain.

"We shall have all the time in the world to celebrate this day. But I prefer for us to celebrate when you are taken care of. Come now, Estel, let us walk together," Arwen said and draped one of his arms around her shoulders and helped him move towards the Houses of Healing. The helping gesture was one Aragorn himself remembered doing to her the night before she'd… Without allowing himself to finish that particular dark thought, the man turned his head to watch the maiden as they walked.

"How?" he asked. He was painfully reminded of seeing her pale, dead body on the bed before he had gone on the mission. He had thought it was the last thing he would ever see of her and their reunion now both hurt and delighted him beyond words or thoughts.

"I will tell you all I know later, beloved. But first you need to have that nasty wound checked up. And, besides, we need to prepare for their arrival."

Aragorn frowned, "_Their_?"

Arwen merely flashed him a wide grin. The man accepted her silence, he didn't really care about anything but one simple fact at the moment. She was alive. He was alive. And one day soon he would make her his beloved wife and cherish her forever.

* * *

_To be concluded._**  
**


	28. Eternally Bound

**28. Eternally Bound**

Frodo slowly managed to crack his weak eyes open and his eyes were met by the unexpected bright light of the sun outside. He couldn't remember last time he'd seen such a bright, warming sight before, but knew it must have been back in Shire.

Something was most definitely different. When he'd fallen unconscious, he had been on a large rock by the fires of Mount Doom, alone with Sam and awaiting the inevitable end. Now, as he soon came to realize, Frodo rested in a soft bed in a chamber he was sure he'd never seen before. As he sat up he saw a face he hadn't expected to ever see again; _Gandalf_. Frodo's heart rejoiced at seeing his old friend who had fallen back in Moria. He was dressed all in white now and did not look quite the same, yet a warm smile spread across his face.

To clarify if this was dream or reality, Frodo hopefully asked, "Gandalf?"

The old wizard nodded once as his eyes twinkled in a familiar way and the young hobbit did something he had not done for a long time; he let out a heartfelt laughter.

At that moment, the door swung open and Merry and Pippin ran in and jumped onto his bed to regale him with their adventures. They were soon followed by the rest of the fellowship who all seemed filled with life and peace after the end of their journey. Frodo felt overcome with joy for he had been certain he would never see his friends again. The hobbit felt a heavy weight fade from inside his chest at the knowledge and understanding what all of this meant. He, a small, insignificant hobbit, had completed what had been asked of him. The Ring was destroyed and all would be safe and fine once more as the world was rebuilt in a peaceful Age.

Frodo's eyes found Sam's, his constant companion, and they shared a smile. Yes, all was finally well.

* * *

A few days later, when the city had been regained some of its former glory and serenity, there was a joyous occasion within the walls of Minas Tirith.

All of the citizens had gathered at the top of their home, in the grand courtyard, to witness the coronation of their King whom they knew would lead them into a new era of friendships and peace. So much had been fought and lost and many tears spilled during the war, but on this day there was only hope in the people's mind.

On the steps to the palace stood Gandalf and Aragorn kneeled on the stairs before him. He wore a armor adorned with the white tree of Gondor and Andúril hung from his hips as he carried his head high and gazed up at the wizard. Aragorn glanced to the elf maiden by the wizard's side and she beamed down at him with nothing but pride in her sparkling eyes.

Frodo stepped forward and handed the royal crown to Gandalf before the hobbit stepped back to stand beside Arwen and Boromir, the latter who were the robes of a Steward. The wizard held the crown up for the crowd to see.

"Now come the days of the King," Gandalf spoke with a strong voice as he placed the crown atop the man's head. "May they be blessed."

The crown rested atop Aragorn's head as he closed his eyes and exhaled. He knew the responsibilities that now rested on his shoulders and though there were trialing days ahead, he had already vowed to protect his people and lead them forward. On strong legs, King Aragorn II, son of Arathorn, arose and turned to face his loyal subjects.

Aragorn turned to his side and smiled up at Arwen. He held out a hand towards her and with a flowing curtsy, the elf maiden stepped forward and accepted his hand. The elf wore her long hair out with only a few white flowers to adorn her long locks that fell around her graceful frame. She was dressed in a pale blue dress that both enhanced her elven beauty as well as the Gondorian fashion.

As the royal couple faced the crowd together, the people in the courtyard cheered and Arwen gave the king's hand a gentle squeeze. Aragorn took a step forward and Arwen remained behind as the man held his first speech as regent of Gondor.

Arwen watched her beloved in fascination, for the role of king truly suited him. She had always known he would do good, but now she believed he would do even greater still in the years to come.

The couple were not yet wedded and would not be for another fortnight, until Elladan and Elrohir returned from Rivendell where they had ridden a few days before to bring lord Elrond. When at last her father was by her side, Arwen would wed Aragorn and become his wife and queen.

After Aragorn finished his speech to the applauds of his people, he once more held out his hand for Arwen and together they walked down the stairs to meet the people and those who had helped them reach this moment.

* * *

That same evening there was great celebration throughout the city as the whole town came together and was abuzz with laughter and songs for their new king and the destruction of the evils of Middle Earth.

In one of the grand, decorated halls of the palace many noblemen, soldiers and the fellowship had gathered. The spirits were high as several cheers were made for the king and Merry and Pippin once more entertained with their songs of Hobbiton.

Arwen stood in the entrance of the grand room and smoothed a wrinkle in her wine red dress as she beheld Legolas and Gimli, who were drinking amiably next to each other. Their bond of friendship moved her and she knew the two had already made plans to travel the world together side by side.

A familiar tuft of hair came into her line of view and Arwen called out to her small friend, "Sam!"

The hobbit turned in her direction and made his way over to her. He bowed briefly and looked highly uncomfortable in the stiff fabrics of the new clothes he had been given, before he straightened and smiled up at her.

"Milady, you look radiant like the stars this evening."

"Thank you, dear friend," Arwen smiled. She had talked to him several times since he'd arrived in Minas Tirith, and yet she felt there was still much to catch up on. "How are you faring, Samwise?"

"Me?" Sam asked and seemed surprised she should ask. "I am... fine. Truly, I am. I can admit that it feels somewhat strange, being back now. Not having to worry or be afraid of the darkness every day. Not to have our mission to fulfill. The Ring is gone and all is well."

"It is," the elf maiden nodded. "You have heard it from many mouths already, Sam, and you'll hear it from many more, but... I am proud of you and Frodo for what you did. Your heroism went far beyond what people expected... and yet none of us ever doubted you. And as for you in particular, I am beyond amazed over how you managed to hold true to your words to the very end."

The hobbit frowned and it was plain he had not understood her. "Milady?"

"Do you remember our conversation before we all were parted at Amon Hen?"

Sam nodded. "Indeed, I do remember."

"Then you also remember the promise you made when you were most distressed?" Arwen asked and the frown disappeared on Sam's face to be replaced by a look of understanding. "You promised never to let Frodo go alone and you truly did not. You followed him to the end, Sam, and you did everything you could for him."

"Thank you, milady," Sam said as a faint blush crept up his cheeks. He shifted awkwardly in his place as his gaze fell to the ground. "But I fear your words are entirely misdirected. It is Frodo who deserves your kind words. _He_ was the Ring bearer."

"He was," Arwen agreed and tilted her her to the side. "But he did not do this alone. You are both as heroic, Sam. Though I know not all the details and am aware I never will, I know this to be true. I am sure that had it not been for you, Frodo would not have been able to complete his task."

"Thank you, Arwen," Sam bowed his head and was genuinely touched. "May I in return say that whileAragorn is certain to take care of his people, it is _you_ who will take care of him. I am most happy for the two of you. I know you will be a gentle queen and help guide your future husband for many, long years yet. The happiness of the world is yours, at last."

Arwen felt her own smile widen on her face. "Tell me, Samwise, what do _you_ intend to do now when the war is over?"

The hobbit shrugged. "I'll go back home, I suppose. With my friends. I want to sow some of the seeds Lady Galadriel gave me and watch the plants grow as my life returns to normal."

Sam opened his mouth to continue when a big hand was placed on his shoulder and Gandalf stepped up next to him. The wizard smiled down at the hobbit with a twinkle in his eyes before he turned his attention to the elf maiden.

"I am sorry to interrupt," the white wizard began. "I fear your aid is needed, Undómiel. It appears the King has yet to make an appearance to his own feast."

"And you wish for me to find him?" Arwen smiled as the wizard nodded. "Then I will be right back."

The elf maiden curtsied low and then left the wizard and hobbit to their own amiable conversation. As Arwen let her keen eyes search the corridors for her intended, she allowed her mind to revel in the moment. Sam's words had inspired her hope and love to grow even further. It was only a matter of weeks now, after all their waiting, until she would wed the love of her life.

She gazed about at the white, stone walls and beautiful archways up ahead. _Minas Tirith_. This was to be her new home, this city of Man, and here she would make a life and future for herself and coming generations. That thought brought another smile to her face.

Arwen turned a corner and climbed a staircase onto a small plateau. She stopped on it and gazed up the second staircase before her. At the top of it stood Aragorn himself and gazed out through a window. A small smile played in his eyes also and the elf figured he, too, was thinking of their future.

The King was dressed in royal, blue robes that made him stand tall and proud, filled with virtue and confidence. Atop his brow rested the crown of his forefathers and it seemed to gleam with their forlorn wisdom.

"Is something the matter, my lord?" Arwen asked.

"Nay," Aragorn said but did not turn his gaze from the view outside. "Nothing is wrong. Please, join me."

Arwen did not wait to be asked twice as she raised the hem of her skirt and moved up the steps to join his side.

She smiled up at him as he placed an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his shape. He returned the smile and something akin to wonder flashed through his pale eyes. Arwen raised one of her arms and traced his cheek tenderly as he closed his eyes in serenity. Her fingers traced a few wrinkles by his eyes and mouth that had not been there long, and she knew exactly what had created them. The crown atop his head made him look both royal and full of strength and it was a far cry from the ranger he had been.

She lifted her slender hand and touched the crown as she gently whispered, "My king." She felt, rather than saw, Aragorn's smile and she continued, "You do know how proud I am of you, do you not?"

"Yes I do," Aragorn responded as gently. "I am aware."

"Good," the elf said and kissed his lips briefly. "What are you doing up here, Estel? Why are you not with your people?"

"I am contemplating," the man offered with a shrug. "Contemplating us and our future life. _You_. My luck at having you still beside me. I lost you back there if even for a second, and you would have been lost forever if Frodo had not destroyed the Ring."

"If the Ring had not been destroyed, we would all have been lost," the elegant maiden pointed out.

"_Arwen_…" Aragorn breathed and tilted his head sideways. It appeared he was about to say something, but then thought better of it. As he spoke next, Arwen was sure he had changed topic. "I have something for you."

"Oh?" Arwen asked and her silver eyes sparkled in the pale moon light by the window. "For me? What for?"

"Think of it as a wedding gift," Aragorn said cryptically and took a step back to hold her hands in his calloused ones. Arwen was reminded of that day in Rivendell when he had tried to give back the Evenstar pendant, but knew he would not now. Much had changed since then, much fear had been overcome. Besides, the pendant could not be returned for Aragorn had told her it had broken while she was still in Sauron's shadow.

Because of this knowledge Arwen was surprised to see him lift a glittering, silver chain from his pocket and place it into her palms. The silver chain consisted of small niphredil-flowers and the center piece was the White Tree of Gondor. In the very heart of the Tree shone a white, elven stone.

"I am sorry your necklace broke," Aragorn said. "But it will never be forgotten. The stone in the center is a piece from the Evenstar pendant. I could not let it go to waste."

"It is beautiful. Thank you, Aragorn," Arwen smiled and the man helped her put on the necklace around her long neck.

"It shines almost as bright as its bearer. What say you, dear... Shall we join our most honored guests downstairs?" Aragorn asked and his wife-to-be nodded. The king offered her his arm and she took it. Together they walked down the stairs, down the beautiful corridors and entered the grand hall side by side.

The first one to greet them was Boromir who bowed and smiled widely at his king. Aragorn had convinced the nobleman to assume the title of Steward and work as his right hand, an honor Boromir had gladly accepted when it had been offered at the right time. Still, the man had asked if the honor of the title could be shared between brothers and so both Faramir and Boromir carried the title of their forefathers.

The two men greeted each other with a brotherly embrace and Boromir then kissed Arwen's cheek and pressed her hand in his before he walked over to join Faramir, Éomer and Éowyn in a drinking game. On a table nearby, Merry and Pippin were dancing away tirelessly and sang a new tune about the fall or Mordor with many verses that had the crowd roaring with laughter.

"Ah! King Aragorn," a voice suddenly spoke at that moment and both Arwen and Aragorn turned as Gandalf walked up to them with an amused smirk, "You join us at last."

"Where is Sam?" Arwen asked as she noticed the hobbit's absence.

"I believe he and Frodo are having a quiet drink outside to try and figure out where to go from here. They have been through much on their journey and now they must find their way back to an ordinary life. It will not be easy, and I fear Frodo might not be able to adjust. Sam, I am sure, will return to normal in no time," Gandalf responded and then turned back to the man. "Now, my king, much has happened in your absence down here. You will find many new, interesting guests have arrived."

"Is that so?" Aragorn asked and frowned at the wizard's comment.

"_Ada_!" Arwen cried by his side in that moment as a figure walked up to join Gandalf's side. Without waiting any further, the elf maiden stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck and held her father close.

"Arwen, "Elrond exhaled in relief and hugged her just as tight.

Aragorn greeted Elladan and Elrohir, who walked over to congratulate their brother, as Arwen stepped back from her father's loving embrace.

"We were not expecting you for at least another week," she said.

Elrond smiled and cupped his daughter's cheek. "You thought I could wait that long? I rode to meet your brothers. I could not wait to see you, either of you. Oh, dear Arwen, I am so happy to see you are alive."

"As am I, Ada," the elf maiden smiled back.

Elrond then turned to Aragorn and embraced him with warmth. The man smiled into his foster father's shoulder before stepping back.

"Aragorn, you have made this elven father proud," Elrond spoke. "I could not have asked for a better son to marry my daughter. The hour is late tonight, but tomorrow is midsummer and the two of you shall be wed with my blessing at last. The wait will not be long, though I am sure it will feel like a lifetime to you."

* * *

_Ten years later..._

Arwen leaned against one of the pillars and remained in the shadows as she gazed out at her husband on the balcony. Aragorn was walking to and fro while gently rocking the small bundle in his arms that was making small noises of excitement every other second. As he walked, the king spoke of the great adventures of Frodo and the fellowship and now and again turned to the rising sun on the horizon to gaze northwards.

"Our son is not yet one year old," Arwen said at last as she stepped onto the balcony. "He won't understand your story for awhile yet."

Aragorn turned around in surprise but his face soon shone once more with the warm smile. The wrinkles around his eyes were more noticeable on his skin now than but years ago and both his hair and beard were heavily streaked with grey. Despite this he looked no elder than the day of his coronation. "Did we wake you?"

The queen leaned against the balustrade beside her husband and gazed down at the small boy wrapped in a blanket in his father's arms. "You merely think your father is amusing whenever he uses different voices to impersonate the others of the fellowship, do you not?"

"You underestimate Eldarion, my love," Aragorn said and his voice danced with laughter.

"I think perhaps I underestimated your influence on our son," Arwen offered with a wink. "For I did not think you would creep from our bed in the middle of the night to bring him out here so that you could share a story of days past. I thought even less that Eldarion would adore how abruptly his father awoke him, but he seems beyond content to spend private time with you."

The king chuckled and kissed his wife's cheek. "I believe that is rather our son's influence on me and not the other way around. Nonetheless, I understand what you mean. Our son needs his rest and look, his energy is waning even as the sun rises. There's no need to yawn, Eldarion, I'll take you back to bed."

The young child let out a bubbly laughter as Aragorn swung him around in the air and walked inside.

Arwen laughed at the men in her life, before she turned to watch the sunrise before her. A gentle breeze cooled her in the morning and she felt the chill creep along her bare arms. Only a few minutes later, she felt the warmth of a pair of arms wrap around her body and she leaned back into Aragorn's chest with a content sigh.

"I can't believe my fortune," the queen murmured.

"You?" Aragorn asked and his voice had a hint of irony in it. "You married an exiled ranger while I married the daughter of a high-born lord. Certainly, my choice must have been better than yours."

"No," Arwen shook her head and turned around in her husband's arms. Slowly, she snaked her own around his neck and leaned her forehead against his. "You've brought me true and honest love, given me a son and made me a queen."

Aragorn pretended to ponder her words before admitting, "When you put it like that... Then we are even, after all."

With a wordless smile, Arwen reached out a hand and traced her husband's face with gentle fingers. "Much time has passed since we set foot on our path that started with the Fellowship and even longer still than our first meeting... I have spent many days thinking about it. Your path from ranger to king, Sauron's grip on my mind, Frodo's burned as the ring bearer and, of course, the friendships we made for life."

For a couple of minutes, the couple remained silent as they watched the light stretch towards the skies above. The white stones below them soon shone beneath the warm rays as the first birds came awake around them. Far down below, the king and queen could hear some citizens, too, awaken with the sun and set off for their early duties, such as bread making or the milking of the cows. The guards of the citadel shared a good laughter while a dog barked far down below.

At last, Aragorn lowered his head from the view and gazed at his wife as he admitted, "Sometimes, at least in retrospect, I can admit that there were times I truly did not believe we would ever live to see this day. It might sound terrible to confess, but I cannot lie about the truth to you. I had days of strong doubt about whether the one day I could barely wait for would come to pass or not, for I knew how much depended on just a few steps."

Arwen frowned. "What day do you refer to?"

"Our wedding day, of course, _mellamin_," Aragorn smiled and she kissed his cheek.

Arwen nodded and leaned back against his chest as she gazed out at the hopeful sun. "And yet, when I look back at our path and at what brought us here, I find it is clear things could not have happened any other way. You and I were always meant to be together in this bliss."

"How can you be so certain, my love?"

"Because, my lord, we are eternally bound."

* * *

**THE END**

**Thank you for reading!**


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